The Loved One
by nikkisixirresistiblebitch
Summary: 'No More I Love You's' and 'She Hates Me' 'verse: Fallout from the 'Klaus crisis' persists, as Bonnie and Damon try to find their way back to each other.
1. Chapter 1

Title: **The Loved One**

**Synopsis:** **No More I Love You's** and **She Hates Me** 'verse: Fallout from the 'Klaus crisis' persists, as Bonnie and Damon try to find their way back to each other.

Rated: **M, **overall

Pairings: **Bonnie/Damon** (main), Elena/Stefan.

* * *

><p><em>When you can't get out of your own head, it's like falling through a trapdoor.<em>

**Chapter One**

Bonnie tells him not to stay over tonight; "Sex ruins everything," she says and although Damon will testify to the fact that sex always manages to make things one hundred percent better, he obeys her wishes.

Damon speculates about the possibility that he'll be one of those boyfriends who jump at their girlfriend's command. He deduces that it may be too soon to rebel against the Status Quo.

He wants to kiss her but he figures he should at least ask her permission. It's not something he does, though. He takes what he wants when he wants it and the idea that the other person may not want the same thing never occurs to him.

He feels silly asking. He's an adult male. More than that, he's a vampire!

He presses his lips to her cheek because it is safe but she moves her head and he ends up kissing her mouth anyway.

The way she winds her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck, and the way her lips are pliant against his own makes him feel unbelievably soft inside, as if the space in the middle of his chest is melting.

He knows he will get good and drunk after leaving her to chase the feeling away. But this time, he'll keep his hands to himself and his thoughts to himself if he can help it.

Alaric can chaperone.

* * *

><p>Bonnie tries to get ready for bed and all she can think about is Damon. She doesn't want to; she wants some part of her to hold on to her anger.<p>

And she is angry, still. But she wants him and she wants to be with him. She fights with herself about the merits of both situations: she can be miserable without him, or she can be slightly less miserable with him.

Bonnie thinks about this as the foam runs down her legs and the water beats on her face. She was always able to do her best thinking in the shower.

Afterwards, she sits on her bed and picks at a day-old scab on her knee; loving the fact that it's still there, loving the fact that it hasn't healed at some freaky speed.

"It's not entirely normal to be fascinated by the sight of your own blood."

Bonnie jumps off of her bed at the sound. She looks around her room, frantically.

Her own harsh breathing could be heard over what is otherwise a quiet room. There is no other sight but her earthly possessions.

Bonnie wonders if she is finally going crazy. Were the cracks that have edged their way into her reality finally splitting open?

Bonnie runs to the bathroom. She throws cold water on her face and squeezes her eyes shut, the coolness cascading over her skin.

"If you thought you could get away from me, you were mistaken."

Bonnie opens her eyes only to find nothing in her view. She knows, for certain, that her imagination is not running wild.

Klaus is back.

* * *

><p>Stefan leaves a sleeping Elena, warm in his bed, to venture downstairs to the kitchen in search of coffee.<p>

His sweatpants ride low on his hips as he stumbles around the kitchen counter.

He hears Damon come downstairs a moment later. There was something carefree and open in Damon's face and inadvertently, it irritated Stefan.

"Have I told you how glad I am that you're back? Elena's coffee sucked, " Damon said with a conspiratory wink.

Stefan didn't smile and such a display was of the usual. Damon is accustomed to Stefan's grumpiness.

Damon pressed on, "I'm thinking about getting the Scooby Gang together to figure out what we're going to do about Klaus."

Stefan blinks as if the one action took most of his control and concentration, "That's a good idea," is all Stefan says, looking down at his coffee then back to Damon.

"Of course it is. I'm full of good ideas," Damon smirks, conceit being his oldest friend.

Stefan doesn't offer any words of wisdom or caution Damon not to do anything drastic, despite Damon waiting the appropriate time for him to do so.

The silence drags on. It fills up the room, invading whatever warmth the room once held.

"So..." Damon begins, nodding, wanting Stefan to say something. Anything.

Stefan stares at him and in an unintentional moment, Stefan bored mask slips and something like true fury shines through.

Damon resists the urge to flinch, to step away but Stefan's face is blank once again as he walks out of the room.

Damon wonders what the hell just happened.

* * *

><p>In the study of the Salvatore mansion, Damon relays this morning events to an entertained Alaric.<p>

"He's still mad at you," is Alaric's diagnosis.

"That's ridiculous. He forgave me. He forgave Elena. It's fine," Damon say, brushing off Alaric's assessment.

"It's not fine," Alaric insists, "Any guy who sleeps with the love of his brother's life is just plain wrong, according to most civilizations. Although, I understand that this has happened a lot between the two of you."

"Katherine was an isolated incident. Stefan and I have completely different tastes in women."

"Didn't Rose go on a blind date with Stefan, once. And do I need to mention Elena, because really, it's a little redundant. Face it, if the girl is hot, smart and at least pretends to be nice, both of you are hooked."

"Ric, you're making something out of nothing," Damon says trying to smile despite being bothered by the conversation.

"Okay, but if you want my opinion, Stefan's not going to let this go until he gets revenge."

"Revenge," Damon repeats, suddenly finding it hard to swallow.

"Yeah, you know, 'Eye for an eye,' or in this case, 'Girl for a girl."

Dismissing the conversation after saying his peace, Alaric holds up a book of folklores he acquired from EBay. It seemed way more legit when he purchased it.

"Can you read Croatian?" Alaric asks, turning the book upside down.

* * *

><p>Awful music blares too loud and the Mystic Falls inhabitants who have nothing better to do with their time converge to a manor for a fundraiser.<p>

An annoying woman took over the Carol Lockwood role of resident party-thrower.

Damon dances as close as he possibly can to Bonnie during slow songs and dances around her while she laughs during faster songs.

It is fun to hold her close and grin into the curve of her neck.

Tonight, he will go home with her and he will talk her out of any misgivings she has on the subject.

Damon is of the mind that sex never hurt any body (unless, of course, it is completely illicit).

When Stefan asks to cut in, Damon can't identify the emotion that comes over him. It can't be jealousy, he rejects the idea.

Damon says, "Okay," and he let's the witch out of his grip. He hands her over to Stefan because under any other circumstances, it wouldn't raise his hackles. But Alaric's words replay in his head and Damon thinks this is the worst idea he's ever had.

"Everyone stares at me like I'm the Unabomber," Stefan states once Damon is out of the way, a quick, fleeting smile spreading across his face before it is gone in a second.

"You were scary," Bonnie offers, fingers sliding over the lapels of his suit jacket.

"Were you scarred of me?," Stefan asks looking down at her.

"A little. A lot, actually. You weren't yourself."

"And what is myself, exactly?," Stefan asks, genuinely curious.

"You care about people and you value certain things and all of that just went away."

Stefan seems to consider Bonnie's statement. "When I'm alone with Elena, I think about _hunting_, and then I think about Damon's hands on her," Stefan says, leaving brief pauses between the words, his own way of informing Bonnie that she could have interrupted at anytime.

"You're going to drive yourself crazy if you keep thinking things like that," Bonnie responds, unhappily.

"Sometimes, I think of hurting Damon. I think of doing something that would just...hurt."

"Why are you telling me this?," Bonnie asks, not wanting to be anyone's confessor.

"Because you will listen and because you will talk me out of it."

Bonnie sighs, "I'm your voice of reason."

"Something like that," Stefan says. "I'm glad you and Damon are together. He's never had someone devoted to him."

Bonnie wants to add that Stefan has been pretty devoted to Damon throughout the years but she understands that it is not the same thing.

She stares at Stefan's jaw, her eyes then traveling up to his faraway gaze, "Elena loves you."

Stefan seems to snap out of whatever daydream he was having, "When you say it like that, I almost believe it."

Meanwhile, Damon's arms are full of an aging, southern aristocrat who babbles incessantly and who keeps grabbing his ass.

He eavesdrops on the conversation between Bonnie and Stefan while offering timed responses to the woman's inane chatter.

Once the song is over, Damon kisses the woman's hand, "You are a heavenly dancer," he gushes, and the woman fans herself as Damon makes his escape.

"May I cut in?" Damon asks, when he reaches where Stefan and Bonnie are. Stefan steps way without a challenge.

"What was that about?," Damon questions as soon as Bonnie is back in his arms.

Bonnie snorts at Damon's thinly veiled meddling, "Like you don't already know."

Instead of arguing, Damon inquires, "My place or yours?," his voice low and heated.

"Damon," Bonnie invokes his name as a warning.

"We don't have to do anything. We could just roll around naked. No actual penetration required."

Bonnie looks at him, incredulous.

"You lack imagination. Remember, I was born when adequate contraception was a star in a desperately horny bastard's eye."

Scoffing, Bonnie responds, "Reminding me of your age is not sexy."

"Just imagine what I feel when I see at your stuffed animals."

"If you feel like a pervert it's because you _are_ a pervert."

Damon smiles.

"Promise me we will be able to do this?" Bonnie states, suddenly serious.

"Do what?"

"Talk to each other," Bonnie responds, laying her head on Damon's shoulder.

As the night goes on, Bonnie allows herself to feel happy. She almost forgets about hearing Klaus' voice.

Bonnie refuses hors d'œuvre from a passing waiter and senses a presence disturbing her space.

"Dance with me," Klaus suggests, grabbing her arm and pressing her to him; the request not to be declined.

"While I was chained up," Klaus begins, "I thought of all kinds of delicious ways to make your friends suffer, to cut them down at the knees, so to speak. And the thought of you, howling in grief, inspired such surprising feelings in me."

Bonnie forces her body to remain calm. Klaus' hand settles low on Bonnie's back, fingers spreading to cradle her to him. Tender, almost.

"You shake like you are afraid. Are you afraid, Bonnie?," Klaus taunts, his lips close to her ear, "Damon Salvatore is not as powerful as I am. He's not as smart, either. More importantly, he will never be able to give you what you need."

Bonnie makes the decision that it doesn't matter if she draws attention to herself, she will try her damndest to inflict some kind of pain on him. Before she can reconcile this thought into an action, Klaus is no longer dancing with her.

Throughout the evening, Stefan had become uninterested with the goings-on around him. Elena wasn't even enough to keep him occupied.

Stefan finds a secluded bedroom in the manor and walks out onto the balcony.

He breathes in the clean air and tries to reoriented himself to the life he always believed her wanted: Elena's love, his brother alive and well, and untainted roots in Mystic Falls.

"The dreams...I woke up and I never saw you. I thought, maybe, you were my own personal demon that I drudge up whenever I'm at my lowest," Stefan says aloud.

Klaus steps out of the shadows, "You look well. And I'm honored, truly, that you chose me as your demon. Has Damon relinquished the role or do you not even care anymore?"

Stefan turns around to face Klaus, "What do you want?" It's a valid question. The time he had spent with the man didn't shed light on any of Klaus' intentions.

"Are you going to make me another deal? Your life for everyone else's. Will your brother do the valiant thing and step in? He's assumed your role in every other way."

"You don't know anything about Damon or me."

"Don't I? You and I both know that the only reason you haven't done away with your brother is because you think he could help you destroy me. You should skip the former and put him out of his misery."

"And what are you suppose to do? Replace Damon?"

Klaus keeps his expression blank and unaffected but something in his eyes is not so easily repressed.

"Oh my God," Stefan says, quietly, "That's what you want, isn't it? You honestly think you could just replace Damon."

* * *

><p>"He killed his whole family. That must be...lonely." Elena states, her dress wrinkling as she sits on the couch.<p>

"Klaus likes to play mind games. I don't think for a second that he's gone mushy on us," Damon argues, pouring a drink for himself.

"Everyone wants to belong, Damon. The only people he surrounds himself with are people who does whatever he asks without questioning him, " Bonnie asserts.

"You get tired of not having anyone who cares about you," Stefan attests.

"Have you all lost your minds?" Damon looks around the room for a sane individual.

"Regardless of what Klaus is up to, he's taking his sweet time. I was so sure he would have killed us by now," Bonnie states.

"He's fucking with us. He knows we have no way of stopping him right now. Of course he's twiddling his thumbs. It's what I'd do," Damon state after he drains his drink.

Stefan gives Damon a barely concealed look of disgust.

Elena blinks rapidly and tries to think positive thoughts.

Bonnie looks like she's not going to take her clothes off anytime soon.

This night is definitely not going the way Damon thought it would.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for all of the initial reviews!**

* * *

><p><em>Standing next to a glass house is just as risky as living in one.<em>

**Chapter Two**

Bonnie is only mildly surprised to find that in the morning, her father has not yet left for work.

He has a look on his face; the type of look that parental units get when they are going to tell you something that is either really awesome or really terrible.

Bonnie was betting on terrible.

"You got in pretty late last night," he says.

Bonnie didn't think her father would notice. She informed him of the fundraiser so he knew where she had gone. But Bonnie has always known her father to go to bed early. She didn't think he would wait for her.

"Um, did I wake you up, or...?"

"No. no, you didn't disturb me." He puts his hands on her shoulders and smiles at the woman who once was his little girl, "Bonnie, you know that I trust your judgment ―"

"But?" Bonnie interrupts. She would rather he'd spit it out instead of softening her up first.

"Damon. I know you are dating him again and I know that before I didn't have a problem with it. But he seems...dangerous, somehow. I can't put my finger on it but it is how I feel. When you two had broken up, I caught him sneaking though your window. I didn't tell you about it because I didn't want to alarm you. I just want you to be careful."

"Dad, I...I understand where you're coming from. But Damon isn't really as bad as you think he is."

In reality, Damon was worse than her father can imagine. However, Bonnie was not going to tell him that any time soon.

"I just want you to be able to come to me for any reason, if things get too tough for you..." her father trails off, obviously wanting to say more, but anxious at the thought of offending her.

Bonnie senses his hesitation, "What is it?"

"You'd tell me if Damon were pushing drugs, wouldn't you?"

"Pushing drugs?," Bonnie repeats in an effort to clarify what she just heard.

"Yes," he says, nodding solemnly.

"Damon's not a drug dealer."

Her father doesn't push the issue, taking Bonnie's word for it. He sighs with relief, "Good, good. Well, I have to go. And, uh, I'll cook dinner tonight so don't worry about that. I'll see you later, sweetheart."

He kisses Bonnie on the forehead and offers a bright smile as he heads out the door, pleased that he's done his fatherly duty.

* * *

><p>"My father thinks you're a drug dealer."<p>

No kiss. No hug. Barely a greeting as she walks into Damon's bedroom and throws her bag on his bed.

"Where would he get an idea like that?" Damon asks, not bothered in the least by the idea. He has been accused of worse crimes.

"I don't know. I'm guessing it is the fact that you have loads of money, fancy clothes, nice cars, without a job to support it all. Not to mention the fact that you hang out with teenagers. That screams 'Drug Dealer.'"

"Your father doesn't like me very much," Damon rightly assumes.

"Probably. I don't get it, though. He liked Jeremy."

Instead of responding, Damon plows ahead with his own agenda. He hands Bonnie a book.

"What's this?," She asks.

"It's Ric's. See if there's anything in there that would help with Klaus. Can't you do a spell to keep him away from you?"

"Some spells are complicated. If I wanted to keep a specific vampire from me, there is a chance it could keep all vampires away, which would be unfortunate for you. I think we should let him come to us. The more he talks, it gives us chance that we could figure out what he's up to."

"Klaus doesn't come to _us_. He comes to you. And to Stefan, for some reason."

"He's in our territory. He's here where we can keep tabs on him," Bonnie argues.

"So what? Are we supposed to let him run around?"

"We let _you_ run around."

Damon's taken aback, her words echoing across the room, "What is that supposed to mean?"

Bonnie shifts uncomfortably, "I meant that there have been dangers in Mystic Falls that we didn't extinguish right away. Katherine, being one of them."

"And me being the other," Damon extends.

"You have killed a lot of people here, I'm not going to pretend that hasn't happened. But Klaus killed Jenna. He tried to destroy what little there was left of the Gilbert family. I want to get him, but I want to be smart about it. Even Elena feels that we shouldn't be so aggressive."

Damon scoffs, eyes squinting, which usually indicates that he is about to say something mean. "Elena's stupid."

Bingo.

"To be fair, you think anyone who doesn't agree with you is stupid."

Damon shrugs as if to say it's true.

"I don't like the idea of him...talking to you," Damon confesses, in case Bonnie doesn't comprehend how uneasy he is with Klaus being in Mystic Falls.

"I know. I don't like it either," Bonnie concedes.

The conversation reaches an impasse.

"Well, now that it's settled, do you want to make-out or something," Damon suggests rather causally which belies the fact that he would really, really like to touch her.

* * *

><p>Early in the afternoon, Caroline lets herself into the boardinghouse.<p>

She has spent the bulk of her days there but she likes being a part of the action. It's like they are members of some secret, supernatural, crime fighting team.

"Caroline," Stefan says, walking into the living room.

"Oh!," Caroline exclaims, a bit in surprise, "Hi!" Caroline responds, instantly hating that her voice is so cheery. She should sound more adult, more serious.

"How are you?," Stefan asks, the sincerity that Caroline has missed infused into the one question.

Since Stefan's return, Caroline's encounters with him had been atypical and frightening. Everyone says he's better but she has been dawdling at the prospect of seeing so for herself.

"I'm good. Are you okay?" Caroline responds.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay," he states

Stefan stares at her, unexpectedly nervous. "I'm sorry," he says because anything else is just not good enough.

"That's...it's fine," Caroline dismisses, offering a weary smile.

"No it's not. You don't have to excuse me from what I've done. Caroline, you're my friend and I'm sorry."

"You're my friend, too." Caroline realizes that alternatively, she should have said that she forgives him or something of the like.

When Stefan puts his arms around her, Caroline stiffens, her body going rigid at the contact.

Nothing bad happens, and Stefan is just Stefan. She relaxes into the hug, smiling contently.

* * *

><p>The renovation process for Mystic Grill is slow and the nearest bar is serious about not selling minors alcohol.<p>

Damon watches as kid after kid is prompted for an I.D.

"I have conflicted feelings about the man who inhabited my body. I feel like, on some strange, primitive level, I understand him. But I mostly want to kill him," Alaric says, his speech slurred.

Grabbing Damon's arm, Alaric pulls him closer, "You have to help me kill him. For Jenna, you have to help me. You liked her, didn't you? She was fun, and warm, and she could hold a grudge forever if you let her, but I miss her, Damon. Sometimes, I really miss her," Alaric laments.

Damon takes a moment to regard his friend, "You're drunker than I am."

"That's very likely," Alaric acknowledges. "I'm going to the bathroom, then I'm going to go home and sleep it off."

"That is a plan," Damon encourages.

Alaric staggers away from his seat and Damon chuckles into his drink. His giddiness is short-lived.

"I thought you would be off by now, with a stake in your hand promising my demise," Klaus states, slinking into the seat Alaric had vacated.

Damon's jaw tightens, but he manages a broad plastic grin on his face, "I was starting to worry. You don't call, you don't write. Our last night together was so special."

"I'm beginning to think you don't need me. The history teacher is doing such a fine job of keeping you company," Klaus responds, playing along, "Although I doubt he's as entertaining as Bonnie is."

Klaus' comment has a sobering effect on Damon, "Stay away from Bonnie."

Klaus raises an eyebrow, "And how will stop me?"

"I will kill you," Damon assures, an affirmation that he will do everything within his power to see Klaus' death come to fruition.

"Find me when you figure out a way to do that," Klaus advises, unshakable mirth in his eyes.

* * *

><p>After her father goes to bed, Bonnie lights candles; the scent of the melting wax integrating with the wet grass and the breeze that only circulates in the night.<p>

Bonnie meditates, tries to find the center of her being; feeling at peace once she's found it.

She doesn't know how long she meditates, but afterwards, the disconnect leaves her a bit disoriented. She bumps against a table, the lamp tipping over.

When her hand shoots out to steady it, she encounters cool skin along with the ceramic base of the lamp.

Her breath catches.

"That' a nice sound, your heart speeding up," Klaus remarks as if its a compliment.

Bonnie removes her fingers as if she's been burned.

"You lied to your _boyfriend_ today. You could keep me away from you if you wanted," Klaus states, stepping closer to Bonnie.

It's pointless to tell him to leave, to get out of her home, but she will try regardless. "You're bored with your existence, I get it. But unless there is a reason for you to be here, you should go."

"I could hurt you," Klaus reminds, as if she's forgotten.

To that response, Bonnie follows a script that would allow her possibility of escaping unscathed.

_Rule Number One: Psychopathic Vampires are always right_: "I'm sure you could."

_Rule Number Two: Call Psychopathic Vampire's bluff: _"So do it, what's stopping you?"

_Rule Number Three: Let Psychopathic Vampire know that only one solution is viable:_ "If you're done, I would really like you to leave.

Klaus considers her for a long moment, "You're still afraid of me but something's changed."

"What are you talking about? Nothing has changed," Bonnie denies.

Klaus doesn't focus on the things that she's saying. He stares at her mouth and then the frown in the middle of her brows. After the brief excursion, his gaze returns to her mouth.

Klaus backs away from her, startled by the desire that slams through him.

Bonnie takes the opportunity to inhale and exhale, closing her eyes for mere seconds.

When she opens her eyes, Klaus is gone. She pinches herself only to realize it wasn't a dream.

* * *

><p>"He's such a weirdo," Bonnie states the next day in the company of Elena and Caroline.<p>

"I don't get it. He comes back to town to do nothing. It's not like I want him to wreak havoc on my life , but it is frustrating not knowing what he's going to do," Elena adds.

Joining in, Caroline states, "And there's been no luck finding Elijah's body."

The three sit in the Gilbert kitchen, eating sandwiches that taste like sawdust in result of the topic of conversation.

"Damon is driving Stefan crazy. He's up all night, coming up with strategies. The study has been converted into his own personal war-room," Elena complains.

"I didn't notice a difference," Caroline responds.

"That's because it's still the same, it's just where he goes to talk to Alaric," Bonnie informs.

"Well, with any luck we'll all be dead before the school year starts so we won't have to deal with this or senior prom," Caroline says with all seriousness.

The girls look at each other and burst into laughter.

* * *

><p>"What do you want me to put on the card, Mr. ―"<p>

"It doesn't have to be signed. She'll know who it's from."

"This is such a lovely gesture," the salesgirl gushes, making sure the box is securely wrapped, "Is it you're anniversary or something?"

Klaus leans against the counter, "No. It's rather...new."

"How nice. Someone from our store will personally deliver it to her by 6 tonight."

Assured of the delivery, Klaus walks out of the store hungry, almost peckish.

He wanders in search of his next meal.


	3. Chapter 3

_Between you and me, I think we have a problem here._

**Chapter Three**

Damon sneaks through Bonnie's window, and the first thing he notices is what she's wearing. It is an elaborately printed short, silky robe; the belt, a complicated strip of leather. It's expensive and there's no way Bonnie would purchase something like it.

Damon would drive home the aforementioned point, but immediately, his arms are full of her and her mouth is hot on his. He is distracted by her hands and lips, and the tantalizing gaps of skin he gets a peek at.

As he swirls his tongue inside her mouth he's dizzy with the taste.

He tries to assess what exactly is wrong with this picture. His thought process is further disrupted when Bonnie bites him with her sharp, white teeth. He can't think straight for the blunt sting against his bottom lip.

Damon pulls at the hem of the robe. "What's this?," he asks.

Bonnie laughs, a little out of breath, pealing his leather jacket off of his shoulders, "If you take your clothes off quicker, I can properly thank you for it."

They land on the bed, the slight bounce adding to their excitement.

The already skimpy robe rides up, exposing more and Damon thinks that somewhere along the way, he died and gone to heaven.

"Not that I mind, but what are you thanking me for?" Damon asks as his hand slide up her leg.

"Your gift," Bonnie states simply, her tongue running over his ear to emphasize that way in which she plans to thank him.

"What gift?," Damon inquires, fingers stuck inside her underwear, gliding over the heat of her.

"The robe," Bonnie replies.

"I didn't give this to you," he responds, fingering the robe.

"Stop kidding around." She detaches herself a bit to get a look at his face.

"I'm not. This isn't from me." Damon insists, his gave roving across her form, concern more than desire.

"Someone sent this to me. I received it before dinner. I thought it was you," Bonnie says, shaking her head and runs her hands over her hands over her arms like she's suddenly cold.

* * *

><p>"I'm going to kill him. I'm going to kill him slowly and painfully, and I'm going to laugh while I'm doing," Damon's anger is a tangible livewire.<p>

"Hold on cowboy. You can't just go after Klaus. You're likely to get yourself hurt or worse," Alaric warns.

"What do you think?," Damon asks turning to his brother who doesn't seem nearly as upset about this as he should be.

"Damon, you don't know where he's staying. You would have to find him first," Stefan postulates.

"How hard could it be? I found you," Damon counters.

"Not soon enough," Stefan responds with a humorless smile.

Damon cocks his head. "Do you have something to say to me?"

Stefan folds his arms over his chest, "Where should I start?"

"Guys," Alaric interrupts, "Now is not the time."

"I just don't see how you could think that sleeping with Elena would ever be okay with me," Stefan states, discounting Alaric's admonishing.

"So this is about Elena," Damon says, nodding like he finally gets it.

"This is about how you've always, _always_ thought about yourself and no one else. It's about you finally knowing how it feels to have someone step all over what you've tried to build."

"Stefan," Alaric begins, trying to avoid an argument at all cost.

"What? Am I wrong? How are Damon and I different from Klaus? We're not. Except that maybe when Damon does something, we're mad for two minutes and then everything goes back to normal. I'm guilty of that, too." Stefan steps in front Damon, "I've let you get away with so much shit," Stefan states, using crasser terms than Damon would expect.

"I'll help keep Bonnie safe. I'll help you find Klaus. I'll help you kill him. Then, I want you gone," Stefan pushes past Damon leaving the older Salvatore perplexed and Alaric relieved that he didn't have to break up a fight between two vampires.

* * *

><p>Bonnie returns the robe and she brings Caroline along with her.<p>

She doesn't have a receipt but it's not as if she wants the money back. She couldn't care less what the store does with it.

There is some hassle from the salesclerk until the woman who sold the robe remembers the gentleman who purchased it and attests to the fact that the item was bought from the store.

The saleswoman smiles knowingly, "Whatever he's done to make you upset, honey, you should just take the gift."

"I don't want it," Bonnie insists.

Bonnie and Caroline walk out of the store, the two young women each in their own deep thoughts, respectively.

"Bonnie, you know I love you and that I would never say anything to upset you," Caroline states, breaking the silence.

"Whatever you have to tell me can't be worse than Klaus sending me gifts."

Caroline takes a deep breath in preparation, "I think Klaus may have a crush on you."

Bonnie stops in her tracks, a woman walking in back of Bonnie bumps into her due to the abrupt halt, "That's crazy...you're crazy..._That. Is. Crazy."_

"Bonnie, you have this thing about you that psycho's are usually attracted to," Caroline contests.

"That's Elena, not me. She's the one that every guy with or without a pulse falls all over themselves for. I'm just me. A witch, a teenager―"

"And Damon Salvatore's girlfriend. Even if he wasn't a vampire, he'd be a psycho."

Bonnie stares in disbelief.

"You're right," Caroline quickly amends, "that is a crazy idea. Klaus is just trying to get inside your head. That's it."

"Right," Bonnie agrees.

* * *

><p>Damon comes through Bonnie's window with a duffle bag in his hand. He drops it on her floor and it lands with a thud.<p>

Bonnie is starting to wonder if her front door is broken.

"Can I stay with you?," Damon asks with a pout.

"No," Bonnie responds, nudging the bag with her toes, "What happened?" It occurs to her that she asks this question on a daily basis.

Damon sighs heavily and drops his body onto her bed in similar fashion to the way he dropped his bag, "Stefan kicked me out. I'm homeless."

"Seriously?," Bonnie responds, hitting him with her pillow for effect.

"Yeah. He gave me some spiel 'blah, blah, blah, Elena, blah, blah, blah, Damon sucks, blah, blah, blah," Damon answers, holding the pillow to his chest, "I couldn't really understand what he was saying. I kept thinking the vein in his forehead was going to explode."

"So in other words, you're joking about all of this," Bonnie guesses.

"I'm not joking. I'm here aren't I?"

Taking the mature route, Bonnie prompts, "Damon, what did Stefan actually say?"

Damon lies so still for a moment, every muscle seeming like beautiful, polished stone.

"Once Klaus is dead, he wants me out of the boardinghouse," he finally responds, emotionless.

"Stefan didn't mean it. He's going through a lot," Bonnie assures.

Damon sits up, looking at Bonnie carefully, "You know, if Stefan and I ever found ourselves in the same state, city, anywhere really, we'd always end up living together. It didn't happen very often but it was something we were both used to. Time to cut the umbilical cord," Damon delivers, making a scissoring motion with his fingers.

"You don't want that," Bonnie insists.

Damon raises an eyebrow.

"Talk to him. Tell him you are sorry for every rotten thing you've ever done," Bonnie suggests

Damon gets off the bed, " Stefan doesn't want an apology."

"I don't know anyone who wouldn't want an apology, at least to start with." Bonnie opposes. "You apologized to me, even though it was hard for you to do. I know you two have gone years and years without seeing each other and being angry at each other but if you don't stop running now, it's always going to be like this with him."

* * *

><p>Elena slips into one of Stefan's t-shirts and crawled under the bed sheets.<p>

She listens to the running water in the bathroom and she remembers a day (before all of the craziness expanded itself into every aspect of her life) when she caught Stefan humming to himself in the shower.

She didn't recognize the song but she recognized his happiness. He was so embarrassed when she teased him about it, but he smiled and laughed, and that was gold to her.

Then things happened: Klaus, Jenna, even Damon became a bigger issue.

The sound of running water stops, and Elena knows that Stefan will take his time getting ready for bed. He will wait until she's fast asleep before he'll slip in beside her, unceremoniously.

But Elena is wide awake and although Stefan is safe at home, the grief is still fresh. He's pulling away from her so hard. He's placing these walls between them that she has no way of getting around.

At last, Stefan exits the bathroom. He doesn't bother to hide his shock at the fact that Elena has fallen asleep yet.

"We need to talk," Elena says.

Stefan looks at her wearing his shirt, sitting in his bed. He wishes he could take a break from it all.

"What do you want to talk about?," he asks, not moving an inch from where he stands.

Elena moves over in the bed and pats the place beside, "Come here."

"Just...just let me stay here, okay. It's easier for me."

Although it nearly kills her, Elena agrees, "Okay."

Not knowing where to start, and suddenly anxious despite being the one to initiate the conversation, Elena chooses to say what's on her mind, "I cheated on you, Stefan," she beings, "And there's no way I can take something like that back. It doesn't matter what you did out there with Klaus, I was unfaithful to you. I don't expect you to get over that. If you did it to me, God, I don't know what I would do. It would hurt like hell. You have to know how sorry I am."

She's rambling, and scrubbing at her eyes and hating herself for crying.

Stefan ignores her tears. He has to because if he pays attention, he'll forget his own feelings, he'll brush it all under the rug; just so she wouldn't have to hurt anymore, just so he wouldn't have to see her cry. If he let it go now, all he will have is his anger and his pain.

"Why?," Stefan asks, knowing it can't possibly make a difference.

"Because I was lonely and I missed you, but that's not enough. None of the reasons are enough. There was something about the idea of never seeing you again, and I...I needed someone to hold on to."

"But why Damon? Why not Matt or anyone else. Why my brother?"

"Because he knew what it felt like to lose you."

Since the time he became a vampire Stefan has never stopped living in the fear that he will hurt someone he's grown to love so much. The adverse surface of that fear being that someone he loves so much will hurt him.

He supposes that if he had to, he would let Elena be happy with whoever she wanted. Even if it were with Damon. "Do you want _him_?"

"No."

This answer is not acceptable to Stefan, "Elena, you wouldn't have slept with him if you didn't have feelings for him."

"What happened between me and him had nothing to do with my feelings for him. I didn't sleep with him thinking that he and I were going to be together. I don't expect you to understand."

"No. I don't understand, Elena. I just I don't think I'm going to want anyone else but you. And you're not going to want me forever. One day you're going to wake up and you're going to realize that you don't want me anymore."

Elena couldn't make promises for the future, it was foolish to do such a thing, "Stefan, right now, I love you. Right now, you're all that I want."

* * *

><p>The shrill sound of the phone ringing does nothing for the headache Alaric had before he went to bed.<p>

He doesn't look at the clock while he answers, not wanting to be discouraged by the lack of sufficient sleep he's had or the fact that there are some pretty rude assholes still living on this planet.

"Hello," Alaric says, sleep-blurred eyes slowly focusing.

"Are you sure?" Alaric responds to the person on the other line.

Sitting up, Alaric forces himself to listen very carefully.

After a moment, he responds, "That's...thank you, thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me."

Hanging up with the caller, Alaric smiles as he calls Damon, happy for the first time in a long time that he became a history teacher.

Who would have thought that the profession has clout?

"This better be good," is Damon's greeting.

Alaric doesn't waste time on pleasantries either, "I think we may have found the location were Elijah is buried."


	4. Chapter 4

_Put up Fort Knox just to keep you in line_

**Chapter Four**

With her arms and legs bare to the early summer sun, Bonnie sips her coffee as she waits for Elena at a little cafe that both had expressed an interest in going to since its opening.

The two young women had taken it upon themselves to reunite the Salvatore brothers. They knew that their efforts would be met with certain resistance, and maybe even a strong urging to mind their own business.

However, the brothers were their business, and there was no conceivable way Elena and Bonnie were going to allow this cold war to continue.

"I take it you didn't like the gift," Klaus says as he sits down in front of Bonnie, an aura of relaxed, almost casual ruthlessness surrounding him.

If she didn't know the sheer terror and destruction that he is capable of producing, she might have thought him a nice young man, pleasing to look at.

As it stands, she cannot picture him as anything other than monstrous, and his appearance utterly deceptive.

"What are you doing?" Bonnie didn't mean what he was during here, at the cafe. She meant his intentions in a broader sense. What was the big picture that only he, and no one else, could see?

"It was very pretty when I saw it. I thought you would like it," Klaus responds, choosing instead to be affronted by Bonnie's disregard.

"You killed someone that I loved and cared about." Bonnie is unable to understand the reasoning behind Klaus' gesture. The idea that she would accept something from him is preposterous.

"Then Damon and I have much in common," Klaus retorts.

If he thought his sly mention of Bonnie's deceased grandmother and Damon's role in the matter was going to endear him to her, he was in no uncertain terms, wrong.

Perhaps it is the expression on Bonnie's face, or his concern for his own well-being that causes him to add, "What happened to Jenna wasn't personal. If Damon hadn't interfered ―"

"You would have murdered Caroline and Tyler," Bonnie interrupts.

Klaus, seeming a bit lost, ego deflating rapidly, asks "What do you want me to do?"

She is as dismayed at hearing the words as Klaus is at voicing them aloud. Even so, her bitterness doesn't waver. "I want you to die a painful, fiery death."

His fingers tighten against the table surface, and Bonnie is prepared for him to lunge at her any moment now.

They stare at each other, a contest that either will lose if he or she blinks. To an observer, they would look friendly with each other, lovers even, if it weren't for the strain around their mouths and eyes that conveys differently.

Klaus stands up from the table, straightening his shirt as if that act sitting there had made it wrinkle.

Concurrently, Elena comes into the cafe, and her gaze meets briefly with Klaus as he is exiting. She rushes over to where Bonnie is sitting, "What was Klaus doing here? What did he want?," she fires off, placing her hand against Bonnie's arm in comfort.

The past days have been filled with trying to ascertain Klaus' motives and his intentions behind every action. The reasons may no longer be of importance.

"It doesn't matter what he wants," Bonnie answers, quietly as though she were speaking to herself.

* * *

><p>Jeremy knocks on the door of the Bennett residence. When there is no response, he considers leaving the book Bonnie requested on the porch but the idea didn't seem clever in its formation.<p>

He knocks again, pulling out his phone to call Bonnie on the off chance that she can't hear him outside of her door.

The door flies open, Damon on the other side. Jeremy thinks that perhaps his is hallucinating.

"Bonnie is not here," Damon gets out before Jeremy could question otherwise.

Realizing the main purpose for his visit in the first place, Jeremy quits gawking at Damon and holds up the book in his hand. "Personal delivery from the Salvatore library," he jokes. "Bonnie wanted me to bring it over."

"How nice of you," is Damon's responds, whether or not there is sarcasm behind the words is indecipherable.

At this juncture, Jeremy should end the conversation. However, curiosity presses heavily against his back, propelling him to inquire, "Does Bonnie's know you are here?"

"Sure," Damon answers, leaning against the door.

"Does Bonnie's dad know you're here?"

The corner of Damon's mouth lifts and his eyes widen like a lunatic, "What do you think?"

That is a 'no.'

"Well," Jeremy begins, needing something to fill the space because Damon's ease disconcerting, "at least Bonnie won't have to deal with Klaus anymore."

Damon steps out of the doorway, his posture switching from laid-back to rigid in no time, "What do you mean?"

Jeremy starts for a bit, an atomic blush creeping along his neck at the mere thought that he may know something that Damon does not know, "Bonnie is working on a spell to keep Klaus away from her home. It's sort of like a magical restraining order."

Damon's face is grim, closed off. Jeremy assumed he would have been happy about the news.

* * *

><p>Bonnie comes home after meeting with Elena. She gives a silent prayer that her father is not home yet.<p>

She bounds up the stairs, an energy that she didn't have suddenly infusing her bones, revitalizing her.

Damon has stayed with her for three days. Her father has yet to catch on, or for some unknown reason, he chooses to ignore anything out of the ordinary in his household.

She opens the door to her bedroom and Damon is lying on her bed, his arms folded across his chest, aloof as only he can be.

"Hey," Bonnie says with a smile, which falters when her greeting is unreturned.

Damon musters a glare, and Bonnie wonders if they are going to fight about something. If there is going to be a fight, she doesn't want to rush it.

She glides into the room, dropping her purse some place she's sure to forget, and flits around the room as if to appear busy.

As though he is aware of her procrastination, he fidgets violently, the ends of his boots shuffling along her bedspread. Not completely disrespectful like it would have been if he had planted his feet fully on the bed, but the point is made that he is edging towards doing or saying something that she will not like.

When Damon's agitation fails to successfully transfer to Bonnie, he is the first to speak, "You told me it was risky to do a spell that would keep Klaus away from you. Jeremy was here today with a book that can help you do just that. What gives?"

He could have called her a liar, or something as awful. However, he is learning to lay out the facts as they are. When he reads too much into things, when he starts adding his own _meaning_, he makes mistakes that cost him big.

"I know what I told you," Bonnie says. She fills her cheeks with air, then releases it slowly. It's a thing people do when they want to prolong the inevitable.

Her attention turns to idle things, moving objects (her chap-stick, a perfume bottle, a bracelet) to another surface.

In a smooth motion, Damon rises off the bed to grab her arm, touching the inside of her elbow, his fingers meeting in a circle. "I thought you wanted us to talk to each other."

Bonnie hates feeling helpless. She loathes it like she's come to loath other things. She is surprised at her own feelings sometimes, how she can carry such anger in her in the oddest moments.

"I'm sorry that I wasn't honest with you. I had this idea that if I kept him close I could figure out what he wanted. I was wrong. I'm sorry."

Damon has not received many apologies. As a result, he has no idea of how to respond to one. Awkwardness glazes its way over the situation.

"I thought I could handle it, " Bonnie continues to talk, unwinding her arm from Damon's grip, yet stepping into his space to be closer to him. "Then he came here and I started thinking that my dad would be safer without Klaus having access to my house."

"Wait, wait. Klaus was here? He was in your home?" Damon says, with a narrowing of his ice-blue eyes.

"Yes," Bonnie responds, a meekness in her voice that is foreign.

Damon grimaces, "Why am I just hearing about this?"

"I'm sorry that I didn't tell you. I'm sorry. I don't know..." Bonnie shakes her head, her breath skittering across his chest. Sometimes, things are gray to her. She will do things that she thinks is best for everyone involved, her free-will coincidently subjugating another's free-will.

Damon has made up his mind that he won't hold it against her. There are still things Bonnie doesn't know about him, and everything she does know is because she has caught him red-handed. He will forgive her because she doesn't know that she's hurting him by putting herself in danger. He hasn't told her yet, that the thought of her being harmed drives him crazy.

He brushes his lips against her forehead. She tenses, but only for a second. She melts into him immediately afterwards. She wraps his arms around him. He smells good and clean.

"You're staying at the boardinghouse." Damon speaks against her hair.

Bonnie looks up at him, "Oh really? You don't even live there."

"I was _uncharacteristically_ premature in my actions. Stefan said he wanted me gone after Klaus is dead. Klaus is still among the living, so technically I still live there."

Damon has _always_ runs around half-cock, taking action before thinking it through.

"Is Damon Salvatore admitting he has a flaw?," Bonnie jokes.

Damon growls at her, absent of any real anger and Bonnie manages an eye-roll in response.

* * *

><p>"What if we open it and he jumps out to massacre all of us?" Jeremy asks. He has gotten into the habit of saying the first thing that pops into his mind, even without invoking the much abused <em>honesty policy<em>.

"He won't. He'd be too grateful that we've saved his ass. Again," Alaric answers.

Elijah's body lies in the middle of the living room, his wooden casket lost in the foyer. It was easier to carry him the rest of the way without the extra weight.

"If he doesn't behave the way we want him to, we can just stake him again," Damon says, fingers tapping against the wood stuck in the middle of Elijah's chest.

Damon had come back to the boardinghouse with Bonnie in tow. Elena looked irrationally happy as though she were a little girl whose parents decided not to divorce after all.

Stefan didn't say one word either way, choosing to pretend that Damon wasn't around. The two brothers existed under one roof but they barely said one word to each other.

Damon hasn't gotten the chance to apologize but he doesn't see how it will make a difference.

At present time, a vampire, a teenager who sees his dead ex-girlfriends, and an alcoholic history teacher/vampire hunter convene in front of a semi-decomposing vampire.

"You going to do the honors or shall I?," Alaric inquires, an attractive cockiness about him since he is the one who made this situation possible.

Damon stills, hand posed over the stake, "It's only fitting that I do it."

The stake is removed with a sickening crunch.

The men take a seat, knowing that it will be a while.

* * *

><p>Bonnie returns to her home periodically, as to not alarm her father. In a conspicuous manner, she packs some of the things she feels she will need while at the boardinghouse.<p>

None of the barriers she put up around her home has been breeched, which she takes as a sign that Klaus is being kept at bay.

She goes out unto the front lawn, the sun had long gone down as the heat swirls around her. She wonders if her summer will be like this for its duration, one constant danger bleeding into another. The only respite she has found is Damon, and even with him, peace and serenity are not always on the agenda.

Suddenly, Bonnie sees something quick and small darting into her sight. She thinks it may be her brain signaling that it is time for her to rest. When she sees it again, it confirms that she is not delusional by any means.

Bonnie moves close to the apparition, until finally, she's standing in front of it. It is a kitten scratching at a tree, its diminutive nails catching and releasing against the wood.

Bonnie picks up the animal which, to her relief, doesn't struggle in her hold. She runs her fingers through the dark fur.

The kitten looks too well-kept to be a stray. "Who do you belong to?," Bonnie asks the animal, looking straight into its silver eyes.

A purr is the only response, and Bonnie promises, "We'll find your owner, sweetie."

* * *

><p>"What the hell is that?" Damon stares at the fur-ball in Bonnie's hands.<p>

"It's a kitten. I found it wandering outside my house. I'll find the owner," Bonnie attempts to step into the boardinghouse, but Damon halts her movements.

"We have a 'no pets' rule in this house."

"Yet they manage to let you in," Bonnie jokes, "If I had left him, anything can happen to him. Some little girl is probably crying her eyes out right now because she lost him, and I really don't want to make it worse by having him get run over in the street."

"Him?" Damon eyes the kitten a few minutes longer.

"Come on, Damon. By tomorrow, he'll be back with his owner."

"Okay. But if he pees on anything I own, he's going to be one dead kitty."

Upon Bonnie's entrance into the house, Elijah can be heard, the cultured drone of his voice almost soothing.

Elijah stops mid sentence when Bonnie enters the room, looking at the animal in her hands, "Oh, she has a familiar, now. How long have I been gone exactly?"

"It's not a familiar. Someone lost it and I will find the person tomorrow. What's going on?," Bonnie asks.

Caroline grabs the kitten out of her hands, cooing at him before answering Bonnie's question, "We were getting a crash course in Klaus history. Elena has heard it all which is why she keeps yawing."

Elena frowns, her hand covering her open mouth, "I'm not yawing."

"Anything that can actually help us?," Bonnie inquires.

"You tell me. I hear you've spent some time with him," Elijah interjects.

"Well, I wouldn't exactly refer to it in that way. He kidnapped me in the middle of the night," Bonnie says.

Elijah detects a defensiveness in her tone. The young always amuse him, their emotions are always so close to the skin.

"I'm not surprised. He has a fondness for witches," Elijah states, his gaze never wavering.

"I'm going to bed," Elena announces, standing up to look at Stefan over her shoulder, "Are you coming?"

Stefan, who had been quiet most of the night, nods, "I'll be up in a little while."

Appeased with the answer, Elena heads up the stairs.

"If you don't do something about your anger, you are going to foil whatever chance we may still have," Elijah says to Stefan where only he can hear.

"We could have been done with Klaus sooner," Stefan contends, the fact that Elijah had let them down rehashed in that once statement.

Elijah shrugs elegantly, having already apologized for breaking his word upon his awakening.

Damon strides towards Stefan, hands out slightly as if trying to calm down a dangerous animal, "We need to talk."

A moment of deliberation flashes across his face, and Stefan finally decides, "Okay. We'll talk." He leads the way out of the room. Damon follows, only briefly pausing in front of Bonnie who lays her hand a his chest in support.

"I'm going to see if I can find something for him to eat, " Caroline motions, the kitten clinging to her shirt, and winding his paws in strands of her hair.

Bonnie and Elijah are suddenly alone.

"What are you going to call him?" Elijah inquires.

Confused, Bonnie asks "Who?"

"Your familiar. What is his name?"

"I told you, he's not mine. I'm going to find his rightful owner tomorrow."

"He already has an owner, but I'll humor you," Elijah responds.

Until tonight, Bonnie didn't have any specific feelings regarding Elijah. He was just come ethereal force who either made things difficult or easy, depending on the situation. Bonnie decides that she doesn't like Elijah.

Bonnie sits down where Elena once sat which happens to be directly in Elijah's view. "Are you going to screw up like last time?"

Elijah gives a sad smile, "It is truly difficult to kill one's brother. I thought perhaps just knowing all of he things he has done would give me the courage to do so."

"I didn't think the choice was easy for you. But we sometimes have to do things that aren't easy," Bonnie responds.

Elijah looks at her, astonished that she is given him a pep talk. "I'll help anyway I can. I promise."

"Forgive me if I don't take your word for it."

"No, I don't suppose you would. Stefan tells me of how you escaped and I must say, I am surprised that Klaus hasn't sought revenge."

"We all are. So far he is annoying us with his presence. He showed up at my home then sends me a present, which I don't have to tell you is beyond strange."

"It's not so strange. You're a beautiful young woman and you're a powerful witch. Klaus attempting to gain your affection is not out of the ordinary."

"And then he shows up out of nowhere when I'm waiting for Elena ―" Bonnie ceases finishing her statement in an effort to understand Elijah's comment, "What do you mean by 'affection'?"

"He's trying to court you," Elijah repeats using different terms.

Elijah didn't think it was possible for a woman to look quite pretty with her mouth open in shock, but the Bennett witch manages to do just fine.

* * *

><p>Klaus sets in a chair, trying to become excited by the young woman in front of him. She's a wood nymph of a girl: long arms and legs, hair bellowing around as she bleeds profusely, the red slickness sliding down her little white dress.<p>

Another vampire approaches Klaus, with news he hopes he will like, "It's been done."

"Did she seem interested?," Klaus asks.

"I'd say, she took it with her to the Salvatore's."

Klaus nods, his spirits lifting for the first time in days, "Let's hope she likes this gift better than the first."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I would like to thank everyone for their reviews and messages. Your support is warm and comforting.**

* * *

><p><em>It doesn't matter if things are done the right way; it's done regardless.<em>

**Chapter Five**

A miraculous need is pressed upon Damon to get Stefan to understand, somehow, that this _thing _between them can be resolved.

Perhaps the idea was planted by Bonnie, and now the thought is a flower that keeps growing in the innermost recesses of his mind.

Elena has always hinted at the fact that the seething animosity between the brothers was counterproductive. She never wanted them to fight, this is true. However, Damon cannot recall Elena ever pushing either brother to make amends, until recently. Maybe because she always blamed herself for renewing the rift; she was the element that recharged their hostility.

"What do you want to talk about?" Stefan asks, resounding disinterest apparent even in the simple construction of the inquiry.

If he chose to, Stefan can be very effective with his words. He can deliver anything with the right amount of stinging conviction and compassion. A proclamation of true love out of Stefan's mouth sounds like a benediction. A condemnation can make one damn near suicidal.

"After Klaus is dead, I plan on staying here." It is nothing like the apology Stefan may want.

Damon's conversational habits consist of a corrupt marriage of joke and malice. Even a declaration of his own emotions have angst entrenched so thoroughly, it is a wonder that he hasn't collapsed under the weight of a severely compromised life.

"I don't know why I thought you would leave if I asked," Stefan's glacial grin is matched by the disappointment in his eyes. "Okay," he says in surrender, "Then I'll leave."

Damon's forehead creases over his brows, and he is aware that his gaze is too wide to focus on anything specific.

Damon had believed the main point of kicking him out to be Stefan's way of punishing him for being a 'bad brother.' This new figure arises, comprised of the fact that Stefan wants to get away from him.

"You're leaving." Damon spits back. He's heard what Stefan had said but his streak of self-flagellation is persistent. "What about Elena?," he continues. It's low of him, he knows, to invoke Ms. Gilbert but she wields a sort of fierce power over Stefan.

"Elena has gone through so much. She feels comfortable here. Of course she can stay. This is her home."

"She's going to want to be wherever you are," Damon states, the words escaping from between his teeth.

Anxiousness sneaks up on Damon, sliding down upon him slowly, like oil, until it collects at the bottom of his heart.

"Damon, she cares about you. She wouldn't want to leave you alone." Stefan's defenseless against the truths that none of them can talk their way around. Elena has feelings for Damon. Stefan can't be around to witness how deep those feelings go.

Damon runs a hand over his face, a desperate motion, "I'm sorry." As soon as Damon says the words, he knows they sound wrong, as if it were forced out of him, his own freewill not playing any part in the matter. "I shouldn't have slept with Elena."

"This is a little bigger than Elena. I don't want you to think that this is happening because of her. I'm sick of being at odds with you. I'm sick of thinking that we could be the way we once were before Katherine. It's unrealistic. I'm going to do something to make you hate me and you're going to do something to make me hate you. It's what happens. We can't avoid it."

Nothing is ever unique with them; all of their lives, a magnificent Salvatore pattern. It is a continuation that history cannot surpass. One walks away, and the other is always deprived of something he never believed he had.

The Salvatore brothers own abandonment as though Damon and Stefan have exclusive rights.

"I don't..." Damon doesn't finish. He cannot tell Stefan that he doesn't want him to go.

It's as if role-reversal has materialized out of their fragmented lives. Stefan once pleaded with Damon, begged him not to go and Damon made the choice he needed to at the time. He left Stefan because he was just so angry at him. It was stifling, how much resentment he held towards Stefan.

"Where would you go?," Damon asks when no other acceptable thoughts come.

"I don't know yet."

"Are you going to tell Elena?" Damon is not looking at his brother at this point. He's looking past him at the door that separates the two of them from whatever is outside the room.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm going to tell her."

There is a spark of hope, at last. Elena won't let him go, and Stefan will have no other choice but to stay.

* * *

><p>After exactly twenty minutes of sleep, Bonnie feels the bed shift and dip. The contact against her is cool and solid.<p>

"Why aren't you sleeping in my bed?," Damon asks, monotonous and morose.

Bonnie can't explain it, but she sensed that Damon needed time to himself, so she picked a vacant bedroom. "I thought you wanted to be alone tonight."

He wraps his arms around her, his hands scrabbling across her frame until they settle on her stomach, hands warming at the touch.

"I told Stefan that I was sorry." He's immobile now, except for the vibration of the words in his chest.

Bonnie wants to turn around and face him but she doesn't. She remembers her father telling her how it had been when she was in a coma. Her father couldn't look at her. It was so hard to talk.

She lets the dark of the room and the heat of her back to his chest, make it okay for Damon to talk.

"I told him that I wasn't going to leave and he didn't...he wants to go instead. I couldn't tell him that I didn't want him to go," Damon says, his lips a determined press against Bonnie's shoulder.

She feels like she's trespassing on his grief. When Stefan was gone, Damon wouldn't allow himself to panic. Elena was already so dismantled, it would have made things worse.

Now it's as if Damon is allowed to feel it all.

* * *

><p>The next morning is a mixture of swelter and fine mist. The boardinghouse is alive and busy, some of its inhabitants sluggish from emotional waste, while others are ripe with purpose.<p>

"I was hoping that we might have a chance to speak," Elijah's quiet approach to Stefan does nothing to lessen Stefan's skepticism.

Stefan gives a hand gesture, a nonverbal communication that signifies his permission for Elijah to continue in his efforts.

"You're really going to leave your home?" Elijah doesn't pretend that he had not overheard. Even with Bonnie's charming presence, Elijah listened carefully to the brothers' conversation last night.

"Why should that matter to you?" Stefan is not trying to be unnecessarily mean. However, he doesn't understand Elijah's concern.

"The damage is not so great that you and Damon cannot at least attempt to repair it," Elijah responds.

Stefan agrees. His leaving is a preventive measure, "It's not like we haven't been apart before," Stefan offers.

"Yes. I suppose you two have been apart more than you have been together. But I can't help thinking that there is a finality to it that even someone as oblivious as your brother can read. You should know that you can't run away from your bond."

"No, I can't run away from it. But I just can't be here right now," Stefan insists.

"Why? Damon doesn't want Elena anymore. You seem to have her all to yourself."

Stefan chooses to ignore the tinge of envy he detects in Elijah's statement, "I wish that's all it were. Damon and I are a complicated issue."

"The past," Elijah acknowledges with a nod.

"It's not just our past. It's me. I've changed. I find it hard to wake up in the morning. Do you know how difficult it is? Finding something to live for? I just...I feel like everything is slipping away." Stefan realizes that perhaps he spoke too freely. Elijah has no real, tangible allegiance to them and he can easily turn around and use Stefan's feelings against him in some cruel fashion.

"So stay. Discover what you have to discover, here, among people who give a damn. I have forgotten what is like to _love_ Klaus. You and Damon still feel the emotion even if you can't say it to each other. Curve out your space here," Elijah advises.

* * *

><p>By the afternoon, Bonnie is suffering from hunger, exhaustion, and thirst.<p>

"I've knocked on every person's door I could think of but no one seems to own him," Bonnie says, relating the days events to Elena.

"So that means we get to keep him, " Elena says, the slight rasps in her voice belying how tired she is. She relieves Bonnie of the kitten and holds him against her chest.

Elena begins rattling off pet names, "Let's see. You look like a 'Snuggles' or a 'Fluffy.' No, 'Fluffy' is a terrible name."

"Damon is not going to be happy about this," Bonnie says, considerately.

"Forget Damon. He has no say," Elena replies, kissing the kitten's fur.

"Pete," Bonnie says.

Elena blinks. "Pete?" she asks.

"He's totally a 'Pete,'" Bonnie responds.

Elena shrugs and asks the new member of their household, "What's up Pete?"

* * *

><p>Damon scoops the kitten up and off his side of the bed, "I thought you were going to get rid of him today," he says as lies down.<p>

Bonnie sighs, the novel in her hands becoming a jumble of letters, the alphabet blurring in her fatigue. "I tried. Nobody claimed Pete."

"Who's Pete?" Damon asks, perplexed at the name.

Bonnie points to the feline.

"Don't name it. The minute you name it, it's yours, " Damon whines, shuffling closer to Bonnie.

"Haven't you ever had a pet?" Bonnie inquires.

Damon runs his fingers along her collarbone. "Person or animal?"

"Nevermind. Have you spoken to Stefan today?" Normally, it would be impractical to ask such a question considering that Damon and Stefan live in the same home but last night was the first time in a number of days that they said more than two words to each other.

"No. He's making himself scarce," is Damon's response.

She takes his face in her hands and kisses him as tenderly as she can manage.

"Why do I feel like you are going to tell me something so horrible that you had to soften the blow?," The masochist in him wouldn't allow himself to enjoy the kiss without demanding that the other shoe drop.

Bonnie clears her throat, suddenly dry with apprehension, "Elijah seems to think that Klaus is trying to 'court' me?"

"Elijah is an idiot," Damon dismisses.

"See, I thought that too, but what if there is some truth to it? I don't think it's as romantic as Elijah thinks it is but what if Klaus sees this as an opportunity to use me?"

Damon is silent for a moment before acknowledging that the idea is feasible, "It's definitely possible. I've attached myself to powerful witches before. Klaus wouldn't be the first one to think of the idea."

"What do we do?"

"Nothing. If that's what Klaus is trying to do, then why bother. It's not like you're going to fall in love with him or anything. Right?"

"Right." Bonnie quickly agrees.

"Right. So, there's nothing to worry about," Damon says with a lopsided grin.


	6. Chapter 6

_You've infused me with your generous poison._

**Chapter Six**

Under Klaus' gaze, the witch shifts nervously. She's only been practicing the craft for a year but she's a natural and if she were to give it more time with the right coaching, she'd be powerful.

"I can't produce love spells or anything. Love potions are sort of a fluke. There are spells like it but it rarely guarantees everlasting love," the young witch prattles on.

"I don't want a love spell," Klaus dismisses.

"Oh. It's just, the way you talk about Bunny ―"

"Bonnie." Klaus corrects, a coldness creeping in at the witch's misstep.

"Sorry. From the way you talk about _Bonnie_, I thought maybe you wanted me to make her fall in love with you."

"It's not possible," Klaus acknowledges.

"Right. So...What exactly do you want me to do?" the witch inquires.

"I want something that would make it easier for her to accept her desire for me," Klaus details.

"Okay. Uh, why doesn't she just accept it now?" The question is out of the witch's mouth before she has a chance to wisely curb her curiosity.

Instead of being enraged by her imprudence, he indulges her, "She's...confused at the moment. She thinks she is in love with another man. She thinks she doesn't have options. She's deluded her herself into believing that Damon Salvatore is the one for her," Klaus concludes more animatedly than he intended.

"Damon Salvatore? The same Damon Salvatore, who is the brother of Stefan Salvatore?" The witch was warned not to tangle with the Salvatore brothers, but it is not like she can refuse Klaus. He's infinitely much more dangerous. With the Salvatores around, she would have to be careful.

"Is this going to be a problem?," Klaus asks, the aloofness in his expression making it difficult for the witch to swallow without an audible gulp.

"No, no. No problem."

"I would have sought someone with more experience, but I've been told that you're spells can go virtually undetected, even by other witches. It's the main reason I chose you."

The witch smiles with pride, "It's true." Her smile slips when she realizes that there may be a reason for his asking, "Is Bonnie as witch?"

"Yes," It's Klaus' turn to smile with pride, "A Bennett."

The witch's eyes widen, "Um, I don't think I'm going to be able to do this. I'm sorry for wasting your time." The witch gathers her things, and stands up from the chair she was setting in.

"Sit. Down." Klaus orders sharply, each word its own sentence.

The witch shivers, her chin trembling. She doesn't want to embarrass herself by crying. "Please, Klaus, I don't think ―"

"Come now, what are you afraid of? Anything they could do to you, I could do worse."

* * *

><p>Bonnie laughs as the plush green of the table barely survives the scrape of the cue against its surface. Elena whoops in response, high-fiving her friend.<p>

Bonnie never thought that a game of pool would release tension. It's not her tension that she is carrying, it's Damon's. He's wound up so tight about Stefan that his uneasiness has makes her worry as well.

Elena seems to be oblivious to it all, which makes the situation more convoluted. Clearly, Stefan has not made his plans known to Elena. She will be heartbroken once she discovers.

Wiping future dilemmas from her mind, Bonnie bends to make another shot and she encounters a body behind her.

Spinning around, she comes face to face with Klaus, his familiar placid expression intact.

"Mind if I play?" To his credit, he steals a furtive glance down Bonnie's blouse before staring attentively at her face.

Without waiting for an answer, he takes the pool stick out of Bonnie's hands.

Addressing Elena, Klaus comments, "When I first saw you, I didn't think you were any different than Katherine. I was so glad when you proved me right. How's Stefan? Still struggling with demons, I suppose."

"Stay away from him," Elena warns.

Klaus gives her a focused look.

"Elena, maybe you should go," Bonnie intervenes, not wanting her friend to be harmed.

"Yes, Elena. Run off. I'm sure you have a Salvatore to seduce."

Elena is at once shamed and outraged. She takes a step forward as if her bravery outweighs her instincts for survival.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Klaus cautions.

"Elena, please," Bonnie urges.

Elena and Bonnie share a look. Bonnie tries to communicate that it will be fine, she can handle Klaus. Elena seems to understand and backs up from the table, unhappy about leaving Bonnie with the vampire.

Watching Elena go, Klaus says, "I love getting under people's skin." Turning his gaze to Bonnie, he inquires, "Don't you?"

"I know what your game is." Bonnie informs.

"Oh? What game is that?"

"The one where you get a powerful witch on retainer. Just so we're clear, I'll never help you."

"You think that my grand plan is for you to join with me?"

Bonnie nods, adding "You want as much power as you can get."

Klaus smiles at her truth, "It's funny how you understand me so well."

The genuineness in Klaus' statement annoys Bonnie.

He hands her the pool stick that he has held, it slides over his elegant fingers as an offering.

She hesitates, a flag rising up in alert. She disregards the feeling, taking the item from his hand.

"You look more beautiful every time I see you," Klaus states, the words blurting out as an unexpected reminder of how little control he seems to have when he is around her.

"Do witches usually fall at you're feet when you say that?"

"That's the problem with some women. You can't take a compliment without thinking that there is a hidden agenda," he teasingly argues.

He circles around her, something base and predatory in the nature of the action.

"Are you done?" Bonnie asks. Suffering through Klaus' pontification is punishment enough for one night.

Klaus leans in, "Hardly. I like to take my time, savor every morsel."

Bonnie moves away to put space between them, startlingly flustered at the exchange. "Suddenly, I'm tired. I'll leave you alone to _play_ with yourself."

Bonnie's parting shot actual makes Klaus laugh, the sound male and virile.

"Give my regards to your little kitty," Klaus calls to her retreating form, the statement a drawn out spectacle of politeness.

Bonnie stops in her tracks.

* * *

><p>Bonnie arrives at the boardinghouse. She wants to rant and rave and verbally claw Klaus' presence out of her life.<p>

In Damon's bedroom, she sits on the bed, fumes and stares at Pete, skeptical now with the knowledge that the animal is one of Klaus' attempts at courting her.

Sensing her distress, Pete hops in her lap, burrowing against the denim of her jeans. Begrudgingly, Bonnie pets him, realizing how silly it is for her to be angry with him. His soft fur calms her, makes her channel her energy into a decidedly tender task.

When Damon comes in the room, Bonnie is poised to launch into a tirade (if slightly cooled) regarding Klaus' arrogance but she can't think for the sight of him.

She has not lived under a rock, she is well aware of how attractive Damon is. Despite this previous knowledge, seeing him reawakens a new respect for his beauty.

The drive to bash Klaus is at the tip of her tongue but her ire amalgamates with an equally strong urge to kiss Damon, to hold him to her.

Pete jumps off of lap, and Bonnie struggles to concentrate. Klaus. Klaus infiltrating his way into her life. Klaus inspiring her to such heights of madness, and...And...

Oh, but her time and her vigor could be better spent doing something else. And why was it so terribly hot in this room?

"Elena told me what happen. Are you ―"

Damon doesn't finish his sentence. Bonnie press lips against his, effectively limiting his ability to ask after her well-being. He kisses her harder, and fills his hands with the shape of her body.

She remembers her fundamental purpose for the evening but she can't halt her fingers from the action of unbuttoning Damon's shirt. She can't stop the incessant bearing of her mouth on his.

Their clothes are off too quick for the mind to process, fabric swirling around them as if a tornado struck.

He coerces her movements, urging her to the bed, but she stops him and draws him to the floor.

She wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his shoulders as he pushes his way inside her. She holds on until the slow, deep rhythm of their movements become hard and fast.

"Hold me down," she whispers against his ear, her arms rising above her head. He forces his hand to be gentle with her delicate wrists.

Afterwards, Damon is surprised by her vitality. His fingers make a linear trail down her spine as he comments, "You've been holding out on me."

She smiles into his chest, her mouth opening to leave a messy kiss on his skin, "You're always so self-assured, I wouldn't dream of ruining your impression of me."

"I think we scarred Pete for life," she continues.

"Pete's smart. He has to learn the facts of life sometime," Damon suggests.

"But he's so young," Bonnie puts her hand over her eyes in mock embarrassment.

"I'm just glad the strike is officially over."

Bonnie pinches Damon in response. She feels the lightness ease away from her in that moment, dread of her impending confession settling heavy. "I know where Pete came from."

"Great. We can return him tomorrow."

"It's complicated. I can't return him."

Damon twitches in discomfort, "Before I became a vampire I was allergic to cats. Seeing Pete brings on emotional distress."

"Pete is another gift from Klaus."

Damon stares at her in disbelief, "You're kidding right? This is another one of your awesomely bad jokes."

* * *

><p>"Even if Klaus is the one who gave him to Bonnie, we can't just throw a defenseless animal out on street," Caroline implores.<p>

The next day, Damon calls an emergency meeting at the boardinghouse. Although all concerned consider Klaus to be a serious threat, no one seems to agree with Damon on disposing Klaus' latest gift.

"Caroline is right. Klaus is delusional but Pete is innocent," Bonnie asserts.

"Of all the things he could have sent Bonnie: crap in a bag, a dead plant, a pipe bomb; a pet is the least of your worries," Alaric adds.

Elijah raises an eyebrow at Alaric's comment "You have an active imagination."

"No imagination needed. Those were my Christmas gifts last year," Alaric confided.

"Klaus is not making any moves. He's just sitting back waiting for us to come to him," Stefan states as if it weren't obvious enough.

"So let's go to him," Damon suggests, "What are we waiting for?"

"A plan that won't get us killed. He doesn't know that we found Elijah, that's one advantage we have. But the last time we had a chance to stop him we screwed up. We can't afford to mess up again," Stefan advises.

"I agree," Elijah attests, "He's only vulnerability at the moment is his...fascination with your witch. I suggest you find a way to use it."

Damon paces about the room as if the very thought tortures him, "You're crazy," is all he says. He feels as if the walls are closing in on him, everything he thought of substance is melting under the strain.

Elijah shrugs easily, unaffected by Damon's outburst.

"I don't think using Bonnie is a good idea," Stefan states.

"I don't think talking about me as if I'm not here is a good idea either," Bonnie says, her arms folded across her chest in displeasure.

"I'm sorry, Bonnie." Stefan says, making amends.

"My apologies," Elijah states, "Although the idea may not sit well with most of you, it would appear that Klaus' infatuation with Bonnie is the only thing that is stilling his hand in retaliation. Klaus is not one to feel anything for anyone. You have to exploit that. You would be stupid not to."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I am extremely appreciative of the reviews and messages that I have received. The faithfulness of old readers and the enthusiasm of new readers are like ambrosia.**

* * *

><p><em>Don't you see? Everything is up for grabs.<em>

**Chapter Seven**

Bonnie slides across the sheets, and she thought that perhaps after, she will finally make it out of bed this morning.

It's not as if she never liked sex before. She liked it just fine. However, in her head, a girl letting on that she likes sex is admitting that on some arcane level, she is a SLUT. The aforementioned statement is fatuous by all accounts.

However, society presupposes that a girl is to say 'no' to a boy, and the boy's job, from that point on, is to talk the girl into saying 'yes'. One could navigate the waters better as an adult woman, but as it stands, teenage boys get nervous when a girl is all too willing to accommodate his lascivious wishes.

Damon Salvatore is not a teenage boy. She doesn't have to temper the movements of her hips. She doesn't have to be mindful of where her hands roam. She doesn't have to be ashamed of how responsive she is because he appreciates it.

Whether this newfound freedom is expressed in the lacy, black chemise that is lost towards the bottom of the bed where the sheets are untucked or expressed in her underwear that dangles precariously over the edge of the lamp shade, her morning is a delightful kind of busy that a few days earlier would not have taken such precedence over the drama in her life.

Afterward, she's sated and pliable in ways that allow her to think about what lies ahead of her for the rest of the day.

Coffee is the first thing on the agenda. She scrounges around the kitchen in search of breakfast.

"Have you given any thought to our last discussion?"

Bonnie's movements stiffen at the question. She hates the way Elijah announces himself, beginning every fresh conversation with left-overs.

She turns around to face him and he seems amused at her irritation.

"You are going to have to remind me of the conversation," Bonnie says.

"My brother and his infatuation with you. I thought it would be a good idea to use it somehow," Elijah replies.

"No one else agreed, so I guess it's a dead issue," Bonnie responds.

"I know Damon and Stefan are against the idea, but I don't know how you feel about it. Do they speak for you?"

Bonnie has never managed to curb that little, pesky streak of rebellion. She chafes at the mere thought of people telling her what to do, what to feel. Yet, she's a slave in most ways; it is not uncommon for her to march to the beat of someone else's drum. To resist would be so unlike her.

She languishes in the pigeonhole.

"Klaus is not stupid. If he thought for one minute that I was manipulating him, any chance we have is over."

"But you're not above manipulation. And if it meant getting rid of Klaus, you'll do it." Elijah asserts, confident in his assessment of the witch.

"I've given up getting myself killed if it is not absolutely necessary."

Elijah smiles at Bonnie's declaration. It is not as off-putting as when Klaus does it, but it seems astucious, as if one should be weary of Elijah finding something pleasing enough to smile about.

"Don't be so sure that you will fail. You shouldn't underestimate your own prowess."

Elijah has come to learn that the only thing vampires can never switch off, even in their most maniacal state, is that human intimacy is a desirable thing.

* * *

><p>Stefan's onging malaise is a perilous fog over his head.<p>

There are breaks in cloud: when Elena smiles and laughs at him, kisses him, lets him hold her in the grip of his hands with no fear, secure in the knowledge that he wouldn't hurt her.

There are days when the dark overcast is tolerable; Stefan can sit and strategizes with his brother over the only thing they have managed to agree on since Damon's arrival in Mystic Falls―keeping people they care about safe.

Stefan is convinced that if he could get out of his own head, the slightest chance exists that Stefan can go on with his life.

What would that life look like? After all of these years, Stefan has yet to get used to the fact that peace will always be something he's striving for and never something he can truly achieve.

"If you sit there and think about all of the things that are wrong in your life, you are never going get out of this funk you're in."

Alaric's voice jars Stefan out of his thoughts. Stefan is all too aware that wallowing in despair on your own is not nearly as bothersome as being in the company of another and still depressed as all get-out.

The two men sit in the study and pretend that they are getting somewhere in an effort to make themselves useful.

"I'm thinking about leaving," Stefan says and the sound of it to his own ears is a bit frantic.

"The minute I took the teaching job here, I thought about the different ways I could leave. Forget all about Isabel and get the hell out of dodge."

Stefan is not sure if Alaric has deliberately misinterpreted his meaning, but he decides it is of no importance. Leaving is leaving, however one looks at it.

"I don't feel comfortable here." Stefan responds, and for the most part it is completely true.

He thinks about the last time he hasn't felt comfortable in a place were he should have, at the very least, thought of the location as home. 1986, he thinks the year was and the newest drug on the market was Prozac. The drug didn't work that well, especially when he downed it with alcohol.

Too bad there is nothing on the market for homicidal vampires.

"Look, you think I don't know what it's like to be cuckold? My wife left me to become a vampire, and she manages to have an affair with Damon."

He could go along with the idea that the source of his discomfort was Elena sleeping with Damon. As far as he is concerned, that is just a miniscule aspect of the fucked up-ness that happens to be his entire life.

"It's more than that, isn't it?" Alaric asks, as if the silence in the room gave him enough time to play mind reader.

Stefan can't turn off the guilt that he's murdered innocent people. He can't turn off the guilt that he'd gladly do it again if he thought he could get away with it.

* * *

><p>"I hear Maine is beautiful this time of year. Lots of deer. You'll feel right at home." Damon barges into Stefan's bedroom later in the day, clasping a hand on the younger Salvatore's shoulder.<p>

Damon has devised a plan that involves feigned merriment at the prospect of Stefan leaving the boardinghouse. It's what's expected of him, far be it for him to disappoint.

Stefan frowns; he doesn't have the energy to endure Damon's boundless restlessness. He maintains eye contact with floor.

"You haven't changed your mind, have you?" Perhaps it is too soon for Damon to be asking the question but he had hoped that Elena has convinced Stefan to stay put.

Stefan wavers a bit, uncertainty suddenly permeating his decision. When Stefan answers "No," he is not sure he means it.

Damon blinks. He draws on his narcissism to conjure a believable response, "Good. I'm beginning to get used to the idea that I'm going to have the house to myself."

Damon knows he sounds like an insensitive prick but he's helpless to do anything about it.

"Elena seems to be taking the news well," Damon comments.

"I haven't told her yet," Stefan replies, "There never seems to be a good time."

"You should tell her before she finds out another way," Damon advises.

Stefan looks brother for the first time since his entering into the room, "Are you going to tell her?"

Damon smirks, the action perfect for goading his brother. "Why would I? Elena's your _girlfriend_."

It was not Damon's intention to mock Stefan and Elena's relationship, but the words lie there, immaculate in its capacity to offend.

"Go to hell," Stefan's voice is quiet, but the acrimonious inflection is palpable.

"Save me seat, little brother," Damon grounds out before walking out of the room.

* * *

><p>In a fit of oblation, some kid throws a party and invites everyone he knows because his parents are on a cruise.<p>

Caroline and Elena go because they haven't done anything 'normal' in the longest time. Bonnie, Jeremy, Damon and Stefan go based on various reasoning, all of which amounts to boredom.

Jeremy gets drunk pretty quickly and he finds that he doesn't see ghost while in a inebriated state. He's unperturbed at seeing doubles of everything, because at least it is all real and living.

Jeremy puts his tongue in a stranger's mouth, squeezes the tits of some girl and it all reminds him of a past life when he was just too wasted to care. The exception is, tomorrow, he'll pull himself together and go on being the responsible young man he needs to be because there is no one left to ground him.

Elena gets drunk too, but it's accidental. Stefan has lost count of the number of drinks he's had but his coordination is intact. He holds Elena up with one arm around her waist. She gives him sloppy kisses that he allows because it feels great to be seventeen again.

Caroline stands in the corner with Tyler, who is in and out of town so often that it is a miracle he's heard about the party. They both try and fail to keep their eyes and hands to themselves but every causal touch is like balm for the colossal melodrama that is their lives.

Damon only drinks enough to get a buzz, because he's more than obnoxious when he's completely sloshed. Bonnie doesn't think she's consumed that much but she's not a great judge of character in such matters. She leans into his frame most of the night because he's a sturdy presence at her back. He shields her with his leather jacket when the music gets too loud, and she thinks she can burrow against him forever.

A fight breaks out that somehow involves Jeremy; something about Jeremy kissing some guy's girlfriend. Stefan and Damon intervene. Even Tyler gets in the mix because if anyone is going to beat Jeremy Gilbert's face in, it's him who gets the privilege.

Turns out, the other guy is the one who needs help. Among the lessons learned that night is that nicer, kinder Jeremy packs more of a punch than the Jeremy from freshmen year.

The fight is over in a matter of minutes.

Bonnie loses sight of Damon in the beginning of the fight and has yet to find him again. She wanders out of the house and walks around the property.

Conceivably, it is the beer that dulls her senses, that causes her to ignore Klaus' lurking stature, standing there as if he is a hungry lion ready to spring on an unsuspecting gazelle.

She doesn't notice anything amiss until he's very close, and it is just too childish of her to scream or jump.

He smiles down at her as she fidgets. "If I were Damon, I wouldn't have left you alone. Someone's liable to snatch you up and carry you off," is his greeting.

"Don't you have anyone else to bother?" Bonnie asks. "It's my night off. Go away."

Bonnie recites the list of his crimes in her head, even adding things that he's not yet responsible for. World War III can't be far behind if Klaus is around.

"Have you thought about me?" Klaus inquires, searching her face for truth in the answer.

Bonnie open and closes her mouth, speechless as to a proper response. Of course she's thought about him. All of them have thought about ways to rid Klaus from their lives.

"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer."

His fingers find her hair and the slight tug hurts in a pleasurable way. Bonnie contemplates moving away but her hair would be pulled out in the process.

With him so near to her, she realizes that he's been drinking as well, the bitterness of the alcohol mixing with a metallic undertone of blood.

His mouth closes over hers, and action jolts her. Her lips part under the gentle cajole of his tongue. She responds like swimming and dying, breath caught in hazy suffocation.

He tastes so much different than Damon.

Bonnie experiences clarity. She sets fire to him, not bothering to disconnect herself from him before he is ablaze. She feels the burn on her lips, praying that it will sear the memory of his kiss away.

Bonnie runs into the house, pushing past frenzied party-goers.

Klaus licks his lips and chuckles to himself, wincing slightly at his charred skin. He understands that desire can be molded into something softer.

Love and hate, a voluminous slate in creation.


	8. Chapter 8

_Marvel at my change commissioned by your hands._

**Chapter Eight**

Klaus sits in the grass and lets his body reconstruct itself into the image of a perfect, unblemished man.

He goes home and he dreams dreams he hasn't had in so long, his hands outstretched towards _his_ witch; her grace is imprinted on his eyelids.

And it feels like his house is falling down.

He has always been driven by other people tragedies. He has always been sustained by perversion. It is routine in many ways, and genuine excitement is hard-won.

But the red-hot brand of Bonnie's kiss forces him to crutch down on all fours; a human turning into an animal.

Bonnie is a fire-starter in more ways than one.

He has taken witches into his bed, too many to count. Their desire for him, vigorous. But he's rarely returned the same sentiment.

He doesn't want to crush Bonnie under his shoe like he has done to other witches. He wants to rip her to shreds, and then build her back up in his likeness.

* * *

><p>"You kissed him." There is nothing in Damon's voice that betrays anything but clear cut void.<p>

"I didn't. He kissed me. I was surprised. I set him on fire." The distinction between who kissed who first is petty, as if perturbation lies in the initiation of the kiss, not the action of the kiss.

Outside, a drizzling rain commenced, and Bonnie wonders if the sky has examined the mood in the room; taking stock of Damon's back turned to her, the front of him facing away, and the insecurity that is bred in the space of two people.

Damon pays attention to the leather of one of his shoes, the scuff mark that has miraculously appeared there to ruin the otherwise flawless material.

"Did he threaten you or something?" Or something ― because when was it that the guy they've all been trying to destroy had gotten so close to their loosely constructed inner circle.

Bonnie's mouth twists because she knows what Damon is getting at, she knows what it is he is trying to understand. Somehow, Bonnie has come to know Klaus in a completely different fashion than any one of his victims.

"No. He didn't threaten me. He didn't talk about hurting anyone, really."

Damon turns around while she's saying this and his eyes are blue, as always. So blue but no one's home. He has checked out. Something unpleasant is happening before his very eyes, and he chooses not to be present for the carnage.

He wears a mask of detachment and she supposes she deserves it.

"You let him kiss you." Perhaps Damon can explain away Bonnie's other questionable actions, like the fact that she lied about being able to keep Klaus away. But the reality that she kissed the enemy is difficult to absolve.

Bonnie doesn't have a logical excuse for what happened. However, Damon has coated himself with an audacity and self-righteousness she's not sure he should have.

"I admit that I really didn't take Elijah seriously about Klaus. But, for whatever reason, Klaus is interested in me. I don't feel the same way. At all."

Because that should be the end of it, because nothing else is as important.

Damon gives her a look like it's far from over. He wants to hoard it over her head that she has transgressed.

"You mean to tell me that a little part of you didn't think that kissing Klaus was the perfect way to get back at me." Damon fully believes that the scenario he has crafted is entirely possible. Bonnie would want to get revenge on him for sleeping with Elena.

Bonnie has been privy to the way Damon's mind works. His way of thinking has been the subject of either bane or admiration.

"I don't think Klaus was thinking about you and Elena when he decided to kiss me. In fact, I think that was the farthest thing from him mind." It's a snide remark, like a hideous thrill has emerged in making Damon agonize over the kiss.

Damon looks smug, as if he was right all along, "So you enjoyed it."

How Damon arrived at this conclusion, Bonnie is not sure. Anything she says next is a tenuous step around what seems like an explosion waiting to happen.

"I didn't think in terms of whether I liked it or not. It was different. He's not you."

"Why would he think it was okay to kiss you? Where would he get that idea?," Such a heavy presence settles over him as he asks, gravity dragging him to the ground.

"I don't know," Bonnie answers truthfully. Has she done something to make Klaus think he could kiss her? Examining her all that has happened over the past weeks, she can' remember ever making it known that she viewed Klaus with romantic interest.

"So he just thought he could kiss you and get away with it?"

"He didn't get away with it! I didn't want him to kiss me. I don't want him to touch me. I don't want him to like me." Bonnie cannot make herself any clearer.

Damon feels as if heard this before, but not from Bonnie's mouth. He searches his memory, and it lands on Elena.

Elena's vainglorious tales of her love for Stefan were, at times, laughable. She was hard to take seriously, when he and Elena leered at each other, when she forgave him for countless things, when she fell into his arms in Stefan's absence. Damon has never doubted Elena's love for Stefan's, but he's doubted that the love would keep her faithful very long.

"So you feel nothing for Klaus." It's a question stealthily phrased as a statement.

"I feel annoyance, confusion, frustration, hate. I wouldn't call that nothing," Bonnie responded. "But I don't want to be the witch at his beck and call. And part of me is really disappointed that you would think that of me."

"What else am I suppose to think?"

"You are supposed to give me the benefit of the doubt."

"Like you gave me?," Damon inquires.

Bonnie takes issue to his statement, "You had sex with Elena. I am not saying that a kiss is not as important, but you slept with her knowing she was with your brother and knowing you were with me. I don't think you want to compare what you did with anything I've done. It's not the same."

"Right. Because I'm the screw-up." Damon can't resist the urge to relish in his own failings. He does it so it doesn't hurt as much when others do it. He beats everyone to the punch.

Normally, this is Bonnie's signal to back-off, Damon doesn't need anyone to validate his self-degradation. But it is too easy let Damon continue on his mission.

" I know you are upset. He shouldn't have kissed me. But Klaus has already taken so much from us. Don't allow him to do this to us."

Damon has to contend with his own unworthiness, chipping away at him in the dark. He doesn't know how he ever thought it would be painless.

* * *

><p>Elena reads, her head resting on Stefan's chest. They lay on a couch in the living-room.<p>

The rain lulls last night's delirium, the pace slowed and tranquil in a way it has not been for months.

"It's so quiet," Elena responds, her gaze shifting from her book to Stefan's face. The awkward angle allows only for a sight of his jaw.

He rubs his fingers in her hair as a response.

Damon comes downstairs, flying almost, his movements so swift. Elena struggles to sit up on her elbows, her fatigue making her weak. "Where are you going?," she asks.

Damon pins her with a look, a flash of irritation that replaced by neutrality, "Out." Sequentially, the slam of the door follows.

Elena drops down unto Stefan to resume her position, but she has lost interest in the book.

"I wanted to talk to you," Stefan states, his voice hushed.

"What about?"

"I've been thinking about going away for a while, after dealing with Klaus."

Elena nods as if the idea makes sense to her. She figures Jeremy would be in good hands with her friends. "Where are we going?"

Stefan pauses at the question, his stomach a sudden swirl of strain and nervousness, "I wanted to go by myself."

Elena puts distance between their bodies, sitting properly to look at Stefan. "By yourself?"

Stefan cringes at the expression on Elena's face. "I need some time."

Elena wants to demand what it is he needs time for. She assumes that Stefan is trying to do the gallant thing, and not tear her away from her home. She wants to assure him that she will go with him regardless of the destination. "I can put off school for a while. We can go wherever you want."

"I wouldn't do that to you." Stefan admonishes the idea of Elena putting her academic career on hold.

"Stefan, I can go to school anywhere. I'll just enroll somewhere else."

It is likely they will stumble around in the same vain. Stefan decides it would be best to fully inform Elena of his intentions. "I don't want you to come with me."

For a moment, Elena feels like she can't breathe, as if the air has stopped somewhere in the middle of his windpipe, choking her.

"Why?" she asks, after she gains her bearings.

"I love you," Stefan says, as if that assuages Elena's fears.

"Why?," she presses on, "Why are you leaving me?"

In a bout of recklessness after Damon's refusal to leave the boardinghouse per Stefan's request, Stefan decided he would leave instead. Although in a peripheral sense, he knew he would be leaving Elena, how massive and overwhelming the ordeal is has hit him at this precise moment.

"I don't want to leave you. But I'm afraid that I'm going to do something to hurt you if I stay. I'm doing this for you, for myself."

"If something's wrong, we can fix it. Just tell me."

"Elena...I don't know how explain it to you. I feel like I'm going to jump out of my skin. I feel like I don't belong here. And I don't know how to snap out of it."

"Leaving is not going to help," Elena advices, hating how desperate she sounds.

Stefan runs his hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration.

"Everyday, it's a struggle not kill."

Elena flinches at the words, finally comprehending the scope of Stefan's torment.

* * *

><p>Damon comes in a while later, pouring himself a drink immediately upon his return.<p>

"Did you find him?," Elijah's says, appearing as if out of nowhere.

When Damon left, he went directly to the nearest bar. As if anticipating his movements, Klaus was already there. On his face was the self-satisfied grin of accomplishment.

Damon wouldn't be Damon if he didn't at least goad Klaus into a fight with curses, taunts, and declarations of pure hatred.

All the markers of a jilted boyfriend.

Damon takes a sip of his drink before answering, "He found _me_."

"I know this may be difficult but it has to be done," Elijah comments.

"Bonnie doesn't want Klaus around as much as anyone else," Damon insists. "If we tell her the plan―"

"She will resist. Or worst, Klaus won't believe her. It is better this way."

Damon stares at the drink in his hand, uncertain.

"Trust me," Elijah assures, "You are doing the right thing."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Mrs. Mathis, who has been waiting (and I quote) "for Stefan to rip into somebody!"**

* * *

><p><em>Bad decisions were once good ideas.<em>

**Chapter Nine**

Damon shuts down, emotional baggage tumbling like a dirty weed. The silent treatment is a new weapon he employs. Although its use is highly effective, Damon personally prefers badgering, and vows to return to what he is best at once this is all over.

He freezes Bonnie out in a way that is entirely too polite to ever mean anyone good. It is a gaggle of non-commental grunts and noises in the back of his throat that either mean 'yes', 'no', or 'maybe' in response to anything Bonnie says to him.

He wonders if he is taking Elijah's plan too much to heart. Alas, Damon's eagerness stems from a large, contemptible part of himself that is happy to wreck shit before it wrecks him.

Old habits don't die; they breed fiercely, and tend to bleed into every aspect of one's life.

This fork in their road (a road which was already under construction) is called a 'break,' the term's connotation leaves a foreboding taste in Bonnie's mouth. Fractures are rarely put back together safe and sound. There are residual affects, and one can predict the weather depending on the pain their knee after all is said and done.

To put it in the mildest manner, Bonnie feels like meat that's been left on the grill too long.

Was she lacking in sensitivity because she wants, more than anything at the moment, for Damon to forego his adolescent pouting? Perhaps if she could see things from his perspective, she could understand his hurt.

But the shoe has been on the other foot, and it was a tight fit. She maintains the view that cheating is cheating but there are degrees, marked differences in how the individuals involved have behaved.

She had apologized despite not believing that she was solely responsible for the events that took place the night of the party. Her apology dropped like a stone that sinks all the way to the ocean floor.

Damon is unreachable when he has made up his mind.

So she goes home, her _real_ home (she leaves the boardinghouse, more aware than ever that playing house does not guarantee smooth sailing), and pretends she isn't torn up about Damon's inability to recognize that a measly kiss is not the end of the world.

Bonnie's father doesn't let on whether or not he's noticed her absence, and for once, she is bothered by his knack for avoiding the obvious.

True, he cannot hold her accountable for her days being spent elsewhere while he is at work, but the nights should spark some vigilance in the man.

Bonnie reacquaints herself with the room that still looks like it belongs to a little girl. Pete doesn't seem disturbed by the change in location, although he seems annoyed that his roaming space is smaller.

She can't sleep. And when she does manage to sleep, it is fitful, snatches of nightmares that aren't of her own creation, death and dying so vividly she wakes up, her mouth open in a silent scream.

Damon experiences a bout of insomnia he chases with alcohol, which furthers the delirium of his sleep depravation.

He knows he sent her away but he calls her, breathes heavily into the phone and hangs up when she says his name.

Can Pepcid work for heartache as well as heartburn?

"Stick to the plan," Elijah tells him, one night when Damon is almost out the door.

"Fuck the plan," Damon responds. "Klaus hasn't made one move."

Unaffected by Damon's belligerence, Elijah comments, "Do you think everyone operates like you? That they don't put thought into their action?"

Damon scoffs, "I'll leave the deep-thinking to Stefan."

"Now is not the time to be foolish. Control yourself," Elijah strongly advices.

* * *

><p><em>Police say that the young woman was reported missing four days ago by friends and family. In a tragic turn of events, Jennifer Conrad, the 21 year old University of Virginia student, was found dead. As you can imagine, those who knew her are inconsolable<em>_..._

The anchor is new, youngish, startlingly attractive and someone will tell her that she has to work on being sympathetic without looking as if she, herself, will burst into tears.

Stefan blocked out the words of the newscaster as a picture of Jennifer Conrad is flashed for the thousandth time: the pretty, blonde young woman, smile frozen in place for the media.

He installed a television in his room because Elena implored him to. She no longer found comfort in the quietness of his bedroom, where he would retreat to his journals and books, and she would stew in her own thoughts.

Stefan turns down the volume of the television as the fellow students from UVA cry in front of a makeshift vigil.

He remembers Jennifer: the taste of her skin, the sweet and salty flavor of her blood. He didn't think about her parents or her roommate, or anything for that matter.

She smiled up at him the whole night; he hadn't needed to use compulsion, so flattered by his attention.

Not waiting for Stefan to make the first move, she kissed him; her lips warm and wet against his. He didn't feel desire for her, her kiss doing nothing to arouse him. It was her pulse, the ticking time bomb of her heart that made him press his body to hers.

She ran; when his face changed, when she saw that his hunger would surely translate into her death.

He caught up to her easily, but he let her go. Cat and mouse; he would give her the hope that she will survive the ordeal, then he would extinguish any chance.

He felt good doing it.

Klaus taught him to make most of his killings looked like the work of some deranged murderer. No, there will be no 'animal attacks' if one cleans up after his or herself.

He came home to Elena and kissed her with Jennifer's blood on his tongue. Elena grimaced at the taste but she didn't refuse when his pulled her shirt over her head, or when he put his hand between her legs.

He was rough with her, like he had been when he first returned, non of the china-doll tenderness. She was turned on by it, and possibly embarrassed as well.

Perhaps his style of love-making had reminded her of Damon.

Elena jars him out of his reverie, asking him a question he hadn't heard.

"I'm sorry. Can you repeat that?"

"I asked if you wanted to go into town with me today."

Stefan shakes his head, "I don't think so."

Elena struggles to keep the smile plastered on her face, "That's okay. We'll bum around here."

Stefan frowns, "If you want to go, don't let me stop you."

Elena didn't respond. Instead, she turned her gaze to the television.

"Elena," Stefan calls to get her attention.

"What?," Elena asks without looking.

"We have to talk," Stefan says, speaking to the back of her head.

They hadn't resolved anything from the night he told her that he wanted to leave.

"I never liked her," Elena blurts out, staring at the weather woman, her clothes and disposition too sunny for what is shaping up to be a hard day.

* * *

><p>Fruit: Bananas, Apples, Grapes, the list read. Bonnie felt like a real shopper; squeezing, weighing, and eyeing items; invoking a suaveness she had reserved for other activities.<p>

A woman bumps into her cart, and she giggles with the woman, 'It's busy today, isn't it?', nod in mutual agreement of crowded supermarkets.

Damon had called her last night, the usual motto of silence followed by drunken declarations of love. Bonnie couldn't figure out why Damon insists on pushing her away, yet not willing to let her go.

She didn't want to spend the better part of her youth psychoanalyzing Damon.

She heads to the Frozen Food section and browses the ice cream, planning a Friday night of spoon-to-mouth stupor.

"You'd make a lovely little housewife."

And Bonnie believed that her goosebumps stemmed from the store's air condition.

She doesn't acknowledge Klaus. She focuses on ice cream. Pretending a problem is not there would make it go away, right?

"Mint Chocolate Chip looks good," He says, the words rushing against the side of her face.

"I don't like you," Bonnie says, unable to explain herself the way she wanted to.

"You wound me," Klaus responds, placing a hand to his chest.

Bonnie sees this reflected in the window of Breyer's Ice Cream display.

He places a hand on the glass, his palm flat against the surface. She glances at its paleness, the fine-boned fingers.

"I understand how you teenage girls like to take your troubles out on the whole world. Wayward boyfriends, and all..."

Having little patience for Klaus' dawdling, Bonnie narrows her eyes, "I'm not interested." Bonnie turns to face Klaus, "You're not my type."

"Mean and evil isn't your type? Damon was a fluke, then?," Klaus grins, a sardonic smile curling his mouth.

"And what is your type? Gullible and Stupid?," Bonnie responded with dispassionate regard.

"This back and forth between us," Klaus begins, gesturing to Bonnie and himself, "I'm not used to it. Most people I know follow my lead. No questions asked."

"How wonderful that must be for you."

Klaus, looks down at her consideringly, "You have no idea."

Klaus allows her the time it takes to roll her eyes, and presses on with a suggestion, "Why don't we put our heads together and find a way to communicate without reaching a stalemate, or you flouncing off." He shifts away, walking backwards down the aisle, "Dinner. Tonight. My place."

Bonnie looks on, incredulous. An older woman who has witnessed the encounter passes by Bonnie, commenting "Such a nice boy. You should give him a chance."

* * *

><p>Bonnie walks into the boardinghouse as if she is the rightful mistress of the place. She sets her sights on<p>

Elijah, who is sitting in a chair reading a magazine that he covertly places next to him cover-side down when he notices Bonnie.

"Your psychotic brother just asked me to dinner tonight."

"Tonight? Shouldn't you be getting ready?," Elijah responds.

Bonnie gives a short, mirthless laugh, "What are you doing here? If you are not going to help us, why are you lounging around?"

Elijah sighs as if he is put out at having to explain everything, "Are you familiar with the story of Ruth. She freed her people by killing the king." After brief pause, he adds "In his bed chamber."

Bonnie rocks on her heels, completely convinced that Elijah is insane. "So I guess I'm Ruth."

"I guess you are. There isn't anything I could do to make him more vulnerable than you seem to have. Use it. You're powerful."

Bonnie looks at Elijah, takes in his cool demeanor, "Why do I feel like I'm being led to the slaughter?"

The corner of Elijah's mouth lifts, "Paranoia can get the better of us."

* * *

><p>When he walks in the door, Damon immediately smells the familiar shampoo, and candy scented lip-gloss.<p>

"You just missed her," Elijah informs before Damon could make an inquiry.

"What did Bonnie want?" Damon tries not to make it seem like he cares but he knows he is at a disadvantage.

"I think she was hoping to find you."

Damon considers Elijah's answer "Anything else?"

Elijah looks away for a moment, appearing to be in thought, "Nothing that I can think of."

Damon gives an ambiguous shake of his head, and ambles up the stairs.

"Do you consider me GQMF, or am I in some entirely different category?," Elijah asks before Damon is out of earshot.

Damon opens and closes his mouth, in awe at Elijah's ability to kick a strange situation up a notch.


	10. Chapter 10

_I only want to be wanted_

**Chapter Ten**

Bonnie slips on a short, blue sundress, and retouches her lip-gloss. Bonnie calls Caroline and makes plans to meet up with her. She doesn't intend to take Klaus up on his offer for dinner.

When a car comes for her, she politely tells the driver that she will not be joining his boss for dinner this evening.

The driver is so terribly human and his fear shows in the thinness of his skin and the sweat on his brow. He pleads with Bonnie to reconsider, "Please Ma'am." What is unspoken is the fact that the driver can't go back without Bonnie in tow, not if he wants to live another day.

Bonnie hems and haws as the driver stands in front of her looking for all the world like a doomed man. She relents, eventually. The driver shouldn't suffer at anyone's hands because of her decision.

She expected to be blindfolded or some other ridiculous methods to secure the secrecy of Klaus' whereabouts, but all of her senses are left unimpeded.

She texts Caroline to tell her that she will be late.

The driver doesn't make much conversation, and Bonnie prefers it that way. She memorizes her surroundings, absorbing the slow give away of Virginian suburbia to the lushly lit city.

At last, the car pulls up in front of an apartment complex. The driver opens the car door for Bonnie. She resists the urge to bulk at the driver's formality.

The doorman of the complex follows suit, and opens the door for her. Amid pomp and circumstance, Bonnie feels her annoyance rise. She wishes this was happening under happier terms.

As she gets on the elevator, she doesn't know where she should be going, but everyone else seems to have a good idea who's company she's gracing. She is directed to the top floor, a penthouse.

Just once, Bonnie would like to meet a vampire who wasn't filthy rich.

She reaches the penthouse. She has a grand speech prepared sprinkled generously with insults, and reasons why Klaus is quite possibly the Antichrist.

Her phone vibrates, a "WHERE ARE U?" from Caroline. She ignores it in favor of telling Caroline the goings-on in person.

Stepping off the elevator, Bonnie is confronted with soft music and candles. "You've got to be kidding me," Bonnie says to herself.

The romantic ambiance makes her vaguely nauseous.

She follows the candles and the music, stopping to find Klaus in the process of opening a bottle of wine.

He gives her a quick, angelic smile and her stomach flutters.

He pours the wine into two glasses. It's red, and Bonnie remembers that she is in the room with a killer. He ambles over to her, a glass outstretched in his hand.

Bonnie steps away, "I can't."

Klaus pauses mid-step, "You don't drink?"

"No, that's not what I meant. I don't want to be here," Bonnie says.

Klaus looks at her in disbelief, "Then why are you here?"

"Your driver. He was afraid of what you might do if he didn't bring me."

"I would have been displeased," Klaus admits.

"That's all?"

Klaus doesn't respond. He downs the glass of wine he had offered Bonnie and muses at how difficult this seems.

He turns his back, lost in his own thoughts, "You know, I don't usually cook but I figured why not?" Klaus mumbles, changing the subject so swiftly that Bonnie suffers whiplash.

Bonnie feels a sigh working its way up from the expanse of her lungs and she turns on her heels, walking from whence she came.

He's in front of her before she can make her escape, "We haven't had dinner yet." Klaus cocks his head like he's trying to decipher what he's doing wrong.

"I don't want to have dinner with you. In fact I already have plans," Bonnie says. The fact that she is reasoning with him instead of forcefully removing him out of her path does not go unnoticed.

One moment, she is upright, and the next she is flat against the wall. He kisses her as a last ditch effort to save the night.

It's always shocking, his lips against hers, because she can never picture him wanting to be close to another person in this way. He seems too preoccupied with destruction.

Both of his hands frame her face and she knows she should be doing something to get him off of her but she's slow to respond.

Because he feels good, and he's kissing her like he's wanted to do so for a very long time.

She senses something different against her back and she realizes it's a cushion; she is on his couch with him above her, around her.

His shirt is off, and she thinks that perhaps she should put a stop to this. He's nice, and pale, and lean and perhaps Bonnie should tell him no. She feels _need_ burning in the center of her chest and perhaps it's time to end the night.

Klaus swallows her first attempt; he doesn't let up his assault on her mouth. On her second attempt, she actually says "Stop." Klaus presses the middle of his body between her legs, his teeth set against her bottom lip in response.

Bonnie wakes out of her lust-fueled coma and transmits a hard rush of power that sends him flying into the opposite wall.

It looks painful, a crack appearing in the painted plaster a tell-tale sign of Klaus' injury. But he laughs, his arousal still apparent, "You don't look like the type who likes it rough."

Bonnie gets up from the couch, mad that she didn't follow her former inclination of not coming. If Klaus didn't have the wrong idea before, he does now.

"You're right," Klaus comments, even though Bonnie has yet to say anything aloud, "Everything in moderation. Dinner first. Then―" Klaus leans against the wall, "I'm all yours."

"I don't know what I have to do to get you to understand that you disgust me. When I look at you, I don't see someone I want."

"Have you forgotten where your lips were a moment ago?" Klaus was still all smiles but there was an edge to his amusement, as if her rejection of him is wearing thin.

"I haven't forgotten," Bonnie acknowledges. "But attraction is not enough. I still see you for what you are. A monster."

"A monster," Klaus repeats. "Damon is a monster. Stefan is a monster. But that's fine with you. Doesn't matter how many people they kill. They are fighting the good fight. Good and evil, yes? Well we could be good together. I could offer you everything you've ever dreamt. You wouldn't be an afterthought, a secret weapon when your friends need you to get them out of a bind. And what is Damon offering you? What does he have that I don't?"

Despite there being a kernel of truth in his statement, desperation flourished words.

"He loves me. And I love him. That's what he has, my love for him." Bonnie answers.

She walks to the elevator because she has to meet Caroline.

This time, Klaus doesn't chase after her.

* * *

><p>Bonnie is at the boardinghouse first thing in the morning.<p>

"We have to do something. We can't just wait for a way to kill him to fall into our lap," Bonnie insists.

"So, I suppose you think we should go over and settle this once and for all," Elijah responds.

"Why not?" Bonnie grows tired of sitting. She stands up and starts a frenetic pace that belies her overall nervousness.

"If you don't mind me asking, what happened last night?" Elijah's inquires.

"I mind you asking." Bonnie says, hoping that the conversation ends there.

Damon descends the stairs, "I told you your plan sucked." He reaches the landing and he heads directly to the bourbon.

Lately, he's been starting his day off with alcohol like most people drink coffee in the morning: often and in large quantities.

He pauses in front of Bonnie to kiss her forehead like nothing has happened.

"What plan?" Bonnie asks.

The men answer simultaneously, and as a result the reply is garbled and without a hint of sentence structure.

"One at a time. Damon, what plan?"

"I was suppose exaggerate the turmoil in our relationship with the idea that Klaus would swoop down to comfort you. It failed miserably."

"I wouldn't say it was a complete failure," Elijah defends.

"Do you see Klaus anywhere around? It's like I thought, Klaus was only interested in wanting things that he can't have. As soon as he thought there was trouble in paradise and that he had a real chance, he dropped off the face of the earth."

"Well―"

"What do you mean by 'exaggerating the turmoil in our relationship'?" Bonnie inquires, interrupting Elijah.

"You know. Like when I pretended to be all outraged and shit about Klaus kissing you. It's kind of funny when you think about it."

Blinking rapidly, Bonnie breathes through her teeth. "So you let me feel guilty about Klaus when you weren't really upset. You let me think that you were going break up with me because of it. Is that what you're saying?"

"Well...yeah," Damon delivers with a shrug.

Bonnie's raises and eyebrow. "And you thought it wouldn't work because?"

Damon grins like the question is as easy as child's play, "Because he doesn't really want you. I mean, you're great and all but you're not like that Greta chick. You're a little more reserved. He likes the chase."

"I would duck if I were you." Elijah advises.

Damon takes his eyes off of Bonnie for second to respond to Elijah, "What for?"

A bottle of bourbon narrowly misses Damon's head because his instincts are not as stupid as he is.

Most of the liquor bottles start exploding in secession, shards of glass landing every which way.

Bonnie is unaware that she is moving closer to Damon until Elijah is holding her back.

"You should leave and let me talk to her." Elijah suggests causally. When Damon hesitates, Elijah urges him, "Now."

Damon obeys. He glances at Bonnie and cringes before retreating.

Elijah doesn't let Bonnie go right away. He lets her wiggle around in his hold and waits for her calm down.

"If you keep struggling against me, I will be forced to find another way restrain you," a teasing threat, his fingers tight around her.

Bonnie stiffens in his hold, and Elijah takes his hands off of her. She spends around to face him, the inappropriateness of his statement in question.

"What do you expect? I may be undead but I'm still a man," Elijah responds.

* * *

><p>Damon is laying on his bed with his hands laces behind his head when Bonnie walks into his bedroom.<p>

"Elijah's talked to you?"

"He talked to me," Bonnie eyes the things she has left there in her haste to give him his much needed space.

"Good. I totally forgive you for trying to kill me, by the way." He hops of his bed, sauntering across the room.

When he reaches her, he puts his hands on her hips and kisses her on the check. "You have no idea how relieved I am," he mumbles against her hair.

Bonnie pulls away to stare up at him, amazed that Damon doesn't seem to get it, "You don't see me as your equal. I've helped you so many times and you still think that I can't handle myself or that I need you to make decisions for me."

Damon grins a little in confusion, searching her face for a clue, "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that you don't respect me. You say you do but you don't , not really."

"Bonnie, come on," Damon says. It's not an articulate response but he doesn't know what he is supposed to say.

"I'm going back to my place. And I don't want you to call me. And I don't want you to come over. I need some time to think about things."

She moves away from him. She stops at the doorway, craning her neck to look at him without starting back, "You were wrong. Klaus did want me. I don't know how it happened and I don't return his feelings. But he wants me."

* * *

><p>"Sorry dude. I'm cutting you off."<p>

The bartender wiped down the counter top, refusing to serve Damon anymore alcohol.

Damon regretted not compelling the bartender earlier in the evening. He thought that perhaps he could try now, but his focus was hazy.

"Just one more, man. One more."

Damon's head was so low on the counter the bartender had to lean in closer for him to hear.

"It's closing time. Look around. No one's here. Time for you to go home."

Damon looks around and sure enough, he and bartender were the only occupants in the bar.

Damon thought, 'fuck it' and hauled himself behind the counter.

"Hey, you can't do that―"

The bartender's admonishing is cut off as Damon pulled the man closer. Veins mapped his skin around his eyes.

The bartender's scream ended in a wet gurgle, as Damon's teeth sunk into his neck. There was something satisfying to Damon in drinking from the man, the warm blood mixing delightfully with the alcohol already in his system.

The man is dropped carelessly to the floor once Damon's done. He grabs a glass and helps himself to a drink.

The door to the bar creeks open.

"We're closed buddy," Damon offers, figuring he should give the person a chance at saving themselves.

"You sure you can't spare one little drink."

Damon eyes narrow at the sound of the voice.

Klaus sits at the bar, and peers over the counter, "I see you've already eaten."

Damon snarls, lunging full force into Klaus, the impact dense and unyielding.

"Having a bad day, are we?," Klaus says, laughter injected into every word.

It's the last thing Damon remembers before he blacks-out.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed my story. I know I tell you periodically, but you guys are made of awesome sauce.**

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><p><em>Cut into the exterior as if skinning an animal alive<em>_._

**Chapter Eleven**

Damon's consciousness trickles in creating a kaleidoscope effect, the view before his eyes looking like jagged pieces of Technicolor glass.

His surroundings are unrecognizable. It's clean and spacious and modern, something he wouldn't mind owning under different circumstances.

He is naked from the waist up. His arms are held tightly above his head, bound together by something strong, the material cutting into his wrists.

He feels simultaneously heavy and weightless. Wetness slides down his back and he realizes it is his own sweat that pricks and stings against his flesh.

Damon glances up at his fastened hands, his ring finger is bare.

He shivers.

"It took you long enough. I was starting to think that the fun was over before it even began." Klaus stands in front of Damon's hanging form.

Damon's body swayed as if propelled by an invisible breeze "I'm flattered. Really, I am," Damon says. "Going to all this trouble just to get me alone."

Klaus grins, the corners of his mouth upturned with the edges of sharp teeth showing. "Even now, I can't figure it out. There's nothing exceptional about you on the outside; nothing that I could see that would make someone as powerful and as beautiful as Bonnie fall on her sword for you."

Klaus picks up a knife that has been soaking in a bowl of water and vervain. The leather of Klaus' gloves matches the black of the knife's handle. The steel of the knife glints even in the dimness of the room.

"It occurred to me that maybe the secret is hidden inside. Under all of that ―" Klaus gestures ambiguously to Damon frame, "Maybe, just maybe, I can finally understand what makes you so special."

* * *

><p>As morning sunlight streams through the window, Elena rolls over, hoping to come in contact with some part of Stefan's anatomy.<p>

All she encounters is sheets and pillows, the emptiness of the bed forcing out the remaining lethargy.

She listens to the quiet of the bedroom and scans for any sign of Stefan with sleep swollen eyes. She gives up, and hustles out of bed.

Downstairs, Stefan bends over the kitchen sink watching as if he were in trance, as the water runs from pink to clear.

He sucks at his teeth; the bloody residue compacted in his gums, and picks at his fingernails.

Stefan would like to be able to pat himself on the back. He stopped short of killing the young woman he happened upon when he went for a morning run.

He won't have to see her face plastered on every television network. He won't have to see her parents crying for her safe return. She will go home, no worse for wear except for a little blood loss and gaps in her memory.

This should feel like an accomplishment. Congratulations, he managed to wash off the stains of his failure and no one is the wiser.

He hears someone approaching the kitchen. The scent of apples waif in the air. He guesses Elena because she washes her with the sweet smelling shampoo.

He readies his face, his expression portraying that of a cool demeanor.

"You're up early," Elena says, her hair still wet, drops falling onto her shirt.

"I went for a run," Stefan responds.

What does he look like to her? Can she see through him?

"I was a little worried when I woke up and you weren't there. Then I thought, 'he wouldn't leave without say goodbye if he could help it.' "

Stefan turns away from her. He looks at the sink again, paranoid that a spot of blood will bloom and give it all away.

"Do you want breakfast?" Stefan asks. He can do this; he can pretend to be normal for Elena.

"That sounds good. What are you going to make?" Elena inquires, leaning next to the counter.

"French Toast?," Stefan plasters an earnestness on his face that he can only muster when he's at his most blameless, even as guilt swirls around him.

"That would be awesome," Elena responds, flashing a genuine smile.

* * *

><p>Bonnie waits after breakfast to check her phone for messages. She told Damon not to call her or to come over, and while she supposes there is no excuse for wanting to see a message from Damon, it wouldn't hurt for him to acknowledge his pigheadedness.<p>

There are no messages. Bonnie almost laughs at how ironic it is, the ways in which he's found to be a rebel is astounding and now Damon finally respects her wishes.

She feeds Pete, practices her craft and stirs clear of treacherous thoughts.

Her day is a vapid void, filling in the minutes and hours with inane (and not so inane) actions, indistinct and perfunctory in execution.

_Because he doesn't really want you. I mean, you're great and all but you're not like that Greta chick. You're a little more reserved. He likes the chase._

She never believed herself to fit in a neat little box, at least in Damon's view. She assumed that Damon saw her as being significant, because when one is in love, good qualities are exaggerated to great qualities.

His depiction of her rendered her unexciting. That is what it amounts to: whether or not she can keep the attention of someone like Damon for long.

Damon likes the chase too, and he only revels in her attention when she's at her most difficult. He once told her that there was something about breaking through her exterior that gave him a major hard-on.

She thought he was joking in that vulgar manner he's so fond of. But what if he were telling her the absolute truth?

When she stops running, stands with her arms open to envelop him (a metaphorical '_take me'_ if she's ever seen it), he wants her to keep running.

Run, please. So that I may pursue you. So I can always have that uphill climb.

Bonnie feels like a wimp because she doesn't want that kind of relationship. Not all the time. For better or worse is logical idealism, she can withstand the worst as long as better cushions it, buffers it, surrounds it.

* * *

><p>It doesn't hurt. Not at first. The scraping of skin separating from bone, the nerves and muscles all severing under the knife's sharpness.<p>

It's dull, not at all vicious as Damon thought it would be. He hears something break, a moist snap and he realizes it's his leg.

The pain radiates throughout his entire body. _That_, he feels and it crashes him back down to reality.

The cutting doesn't feel so dull anymore, not when he's present and his mind is prevented from deserting his body.

"You've had experience with this, I can tell," Klaus comments. "Sadomasochism in a past life, huh Salvatore? You know when you daze out like that, when you _fly_, you say Bonnie's name as if she can hear you."

Comprehension dawns on Damon and something like self-preservation kicks in. He does the human thing, wiggling as if he can somehow break free of his bonds.

Klaus pauses in his ministrations, allows Damon to see for himself that even as a vampire, one is not invincible.

He considers staking Damon, but he doesn't want him to go to that little quiet place that he retreated to once Klaus started to cut into him.

"I still don't see it. Maybe it's deeper. What do you think, Damon? Should I look deeper?"

"Fuck you."

Damon's fingers have turned purple from the choked-off circulation. His leg heals but his cuts stay open, the vervain making it nearly impossible for the wounds to close.

"Let's see what is under here." Klaus says as he plunges the knife in, slicing upwards along the natural line of Damon's sternum.

The blood tastes differently coming up than going down, deeply metallic and warm when rising from his own guts.

Damon can't help it, he screams. It's too excruciating not to.

The knife in Klaus' hand takes a detour. It snags the top ridge of Damon's ribcage, unmovable. "Looks like we lost that one," Klaus says, letting go of the handle.

He strides over to a table to fish another knife out of vervain-laced water. "Luckily, I always have a spare like a good Boy Scout."

* * *

><p>When Stefan awakens the next morning, worry encapsulates him and refuses to let go until Damon's whereabouts are verified.<p>

He didn't see Damon around yesterday, hadn't sensed his presence in the boardinghouse but thought nothing of it. It is not unusual for Damon to go on a binder, especially when it seems that he and Bonnie have hit a rough patch.

However, Damon had yet to return. Even stumbling around drunk, Damon always makes it home.

Stefan resists calling Bonnie pending further investigation.

Alaric hasn't seen him, didn't go drinking with him last night and doesn't know where he is.

Stefan aspires to lost causes: Caroline, Jeremy, and Sheriff Forbes (who still flinches at the idea of being amidst vampires). All, with a shake of the head, inform him that they have no idea where Damon is.

Elijah looks like he wants to help, even says as much. Perhaps it is the fact that Klaus is still hovering over their heads, but mistrusts slams into Stefan when he examines Elijah's offered aid and cooperation.

"You don't much like Damon," Stefan observes because it seems so terribly important in that moment.

"No, I can't say that I do," Elijah responds honestly.

* * *

><p>Stefan knocks on the door of the Bennett residence. Bonnie answers and he is relieved that he doesn't have to provide a cockamamie excuse to her father.<p>

"Damon's missing," he divulges. A decorum exists, a greeting perhaps and then one can move on to business. Stefan does not have time for such formalities.

"What do you mean 'missing'?," Bonnie inquires.

"He didn't come home. No one seems to know where his is. And he's not answering his phone."

Bonnie steps out unto her porch, digesting the information.

"Have you talked to him?" Stefan asks.

"No. I haven't. I'm supposed to be mad at him," Bonnie replies, her anger dissipating with the news of Damon's disappearance.

At the boardinghouse, Bonnie attempts a locator spell using Stefan's blood and some of Damon's belongings.

The map indicates some random location that sets everyone's spirits soaring until Stefan says that it was where their father had shot them dead so long ago.

Bonnie feels like she may suffocate under the strain, how cruel it is for her powers feel the need to play keep-away.

Her phone rings. An irrational part of her thinks that it is Damon calling to beg for her forgiveness.

Bonnie stares at the display, Damon's name flashes but the throbbing in her chest doubles.

"Hello," she answers.

"Greetings and salutations, my fair maiden," Klaus mocks. "I have a gift for you."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I have recently been made aware of the fact that my stories and I were nominated for 2011 Awards (because apparently, I've been living under a rock). It's an honor and I am grateful.**

* * *

><p><em>I go to the extremes because playing it safe hasn't gotten me too far.<em>

**Chapter Twelve**

They warn her against it from the moment she disconnects the call. They sit down and they tell her "Don't go. It's a trap. Don't go."

Stefan has decided he will go in her place because Damon is his brother and as long as there is some sibilance of life within him, Damon will always be his responsibility.

Bonnie can't think of the words to tell Stefan, to tell them all, that this is her fault. She is not being a martyr by any means, she doesn't think she is responsible for Klaus' actions. He would have found some way to break into their existence.

However, Klaus believes that what his is doing has one sole purpose. Bonnie won't bury her head in the sand, she won't ignore the lengths to which he has gone through to get to her. She never saw the point in pretending. It is why, as much as she loves Elena, Bonnie will never understand how Elena could ignore the obviousness that was Damon.

So they argue with her because they all envision ways they could bite the bullet for Bonnie and rescue Damon.

"He's my brother," Elijah says, and until that time, he has let everyone voice the reasons they believe counted for confronting Klaus.

"You won't be able to do it," Bonnie responds. "You won't. He'll say something. He'll do something. And you'll remember how hard it is for you to kill him. You'll hesitate because he's your brother."

"And you will able to do it? You'll summon enough courage?" Elijah asks. Real and discernible frustration leaking through; the man who has been so composed and impassive finally peaks behind the self-imposed shutters.

Bonnie will not be the one to tell Elijah that he just doesn't have the heart. He is only capable of brutality when his valor falls short.

"There is no sure way to stop Klaus," Stefan says, as if it just occurred to him.

"I know," Bonnie admits.

They let her go because any other scenario was unacceptable.

Walking into a dangerous situation requires a plan. Regardless of how ill-fated the circumstance, a plan is a safeguard against showing up unprepared. One could say that at least he or she thought about what they were going to do, even if it didn't pan out in their favor.

Bonnie didn't have the luxury of saying that she had a plan. She knew what she wanted to transpire: she wanted to get Damon out of whatever trouble he had managed to get into with Klaus.

* * *

><p>Bonnie gets into her car and uses the things she's has committed to memory to get to Klaus' penthouse. She concentrates because the last time she got in her car to help someone, she ended up in a coma.<p>

The whole drive encompasses the struggle not to become hysterical, not to panic like she wants to. Self-talk fills her head, supposed confidence that she has the power of a hundred witches, that she is smart. It does nothing to combat the overwhelming astonishment she feels that this has become her life: one emergency after another.

What separates her from her friends, what makes her experiences these bouts of alienation is the fact that she recognizes that their lives will never be normal. Not ever.

If she had license, she would lie in bed and feel sorry for herself because no one else seems to appreciate the merit in that.

She arrives, and the doorman greets her with the same slightly plastic grin. And the elevator operator offers the same knowing smile, a manufactured easiness that Bonnie ultimately recognizes as compulsion.

She doesn't know why she hadn't recognized it before; the tightness around their mouths as if a smile was connected to strings of a puppeteer, the eyes that pled for help.

The penthouse held none of the romantic atmosphere of the other night, and Bonnie knew that her last image of Klaus would not be of the man who tried to wine and dine her.

The apartment looks more cavernous than before, the space devoid of superfluous furniture, none of the clutter.

Modern design for a modern monster, she supposes.

The smell of cloying, metallic blood hits her nose. It causes a tension-induced itch in the back of her throat.

"You're here," Klaus says, surprised, as if he hadn't been the one to call her. "I thought you would marinate a bit, give me a little more time with _our_ friend. I had such plans," Klaus adds, wistful.

Bonnie didn't see Damon. She saw blood on the floor; a concoction of vervain and water, the damp greenish-brown of the limp plant. No Damon.

Klaus traipses to where Bonnie stands. "I'm going to make you a deal: you and I leave together. Right now. Your little friends will not hear or see a peep from me for the rest of their pathetic lives."

"I can't leave with you," Bonnie replies, hoping that the quake in her voice was indiscernible.

"Why not? There's nothing here for you," Klaus says.

"You said you had a gift for me," Bonnie reasons that allowing the conversation to go down that road would be more than problematic.

"Ah, yes, the gift!" Klaus' grin is a mixture of innocence he has never possessed and omniscience that comes from being truly immortal.

He turned away from her, walking over the mess on the floor to head to a room. Bonnie had no choice but to follow.

He opens the door to the room, it's creaklessness a testament to good architecture.

The first sight of Damon tied to a chair causes relief to flood through her system. He looked horrible. Bonnie buries her shock and revulsion at Klaus' savagery even as bile threatens to rise up from her stomach.

"Damon Salvatore demystified," Klaus announces.

He bends down in front of Damon to peer into his face, "I was expecting him to be something special." Klaus turns his attention to Bonnie then, "See. I told you. He's nobody. Now you can stop this ridiculous notion that you and he will live happily ever after. Your last name is not Gilbert."

Bonnie stares, swallowing repeatedly. "Let him go," she says once she finds her voice.

"I'm trying to tell you that he's nothing," Klaus bites out, her petition of Damon's freedom aggravating.

"Okay. You've proved to me that he's nothing. You don't need him anymore. I'm here," Bonnie persuades.

Damon makes a vicious snarl behind his gag. That he doesn't agree with Bonnie being alone with Klaus is clear.

Klaus looks back at Damon, eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Klaus," Bonnie calls to force his attention onto her.

"Tell him that you don't love him anymore," Klaus says suddenly.

Bonnie blinks, startled by Klaus' request.

"Tell him," Klaus repeats. "He's not worthy of you. He doesn't deserve you. Tell him."

Tears form in Bonnie's eyes and she hates it because crying at this moment is utterly useless.

Klaus looks at her like she's just invented the atom bomb. Her crying is a foreign action to him. He's never seen it from her, even throughout their complicated history: his first test of her power while he was wearing Alaric as a meat suit; her attempt to stop him from becoming a hybrid; when he brought her and Stefan into his world; all of it done without shed tears.

It makes him uncomfortable. So much so, he decides that the culprit of her anguish is not he, himself, but Damon.

Damon is upsetting Bonnie.

"You don't have to..." Klaus begins, trailing off when he's unable to articulate an adequate response.

He picks up a stake that was lying next to Damon's feet. Tipping Damon's chair back, Klaus aims directly for his chest. No playing around.

"No!" Bonnie yelled, her face wet with woe.

Klaus doesn't drop the stake, doesn't look back, but he replies, "It is my gift to you. He's death, it's what I am offering you."

"This is about you and me, not him. He's not―he's not important, right? So you can let him go."

"I let him go, and you leave. I'm not stupid," Klaus argues.

"I promise. I won't leave. It will be just you and me. If you care about me like you say you do, you would respect my wishes. Damon never did. He always did what he wanted to. You're not like him, Klaus. You're better," Bonnie chokes on the words, the lies burning her mouth even as she speaks it.

She hams it up because she has to.

Klaus rips his focus from Damon to look at Bonnie, seeming to consider her statement. "You stay here," Klaus says. Not asking her. Telling her.

Bonnie agrees, nodding quickly, "I will stay with you."

Klaus looks at Damon once again, his distain for the other man evident, "Don't you know how to say thank you?"

Damon shifts under his bonds. If he's freed, he is going to take Klaus down no matter the cost to his declined health.

Bonnie notices Damon's intent when she catches his eye. She shakes her head. "Don't," she

mouths.

'Please he me handle this,' Bonnie thinks to herself, wanting for Damon to read her mind somehow.

Begrudgingly, Klaus undoes Damon's bonds. His body falls out of the chair, sliding unto the comfort and safety of the floor. Everything that comes in contact with his ravaged frame makes him buckle in pain.

"Well," Klaus begins, stepping over Damon's prone form, "He's free to go home. If he can make that far," he adds after reviewing the shape Damon's in. Klaus drops Damon's ring on his chest.

Bonnie kneels on the floor beside Damon, slipping the ring onto his finger. She holds her wrist to his mouth.

"No!" Klaus shouts, like muted thunder vibrating off of the walls. Klaus leaves to room momentarily. He returns with the elevator operator, "Remove him," gesturing to Damon.

The other man helps Damon to stand. Damon grabs for Bonnie's hand pulling her along with him. Klaus intervenes, disconnecting their hands as Damon is dragged away.

"Bonnie," Damon calls, malleable and weak. She can still hear him calling for her, even when he's out of the room.

Klaus places his hands on her shoulders, "We must leave this place."

* * *

><p>Damon doesn't remember making it to the boardinghouse. He knows that he is forced down by Stefan's strong hands. He knows that blood is forced passed his lips at such large qualities that he retches a little at the taste, the shock of it too much like his own blood smeared across his lips.<p>

He knows that Elena shouts at him about Bonnie, "Where is she?" Where is she indeed. Alaric frowning visage floats past his view. Elijah, also, calculating and inscrutable.

Where is Bonnie?

He remembers getting up, unaware of the time of day except that the sun burns him. His ring is on the dresser beside his bed instead of on his finger.

He makes it to the driveway before Stefan is pulling him back inside.

Stefan disappears for a while. Comes back with a grim look on his face. Damon hears Elena wails through his bedroom walls.

He is stopped, every time. No matter how he tells them that he is strong, that he'll be careful. Every time, they stop him from going after her.

Stefan follows a lead, something about a witch matching Bonnie's description. Damon follows, breaking through the barriers of their hands.

In Brazil, a girl is young and truly dead. To identify the body, Damon lies, "I'm her husband." No raised eyebrows. No 'how could you let your woman stray so far away?'

_A polícia_ says it was some kind of ritual, the girl burnt at the stake, like a witch, like _uma bruxa_. The police smirk because they do not believe.

Damon claws at the table with the charred remains. Cries at it. Screams at it.

Damon can't remember what they tell Mr. Bennett. He can't remember the missing person signs changing into memorials. It makes local news because Bonnie was bright and beautiful.

The funeral compacts Damon into this mild-mannered, polite citizen. He let's Caroline and Elena alternate shifts on his shoulder.

Stefan doesn't talk of leaving. He watches Damon like a hawk and whatever personal demons he has to fight, he does it while making sure Damon doesn't teeter off an edge.

Every other day, Damon dreams up a way in which he could have died instead. Alcohol provides a special salve that allows Damon not to think for too long. He buries himself in countless women because it's easy.

He can't remember the last time he slept. Eons ago, maybe.

By Three a.m. he's too buzzed to think about sleeping. He thanks God that he's stuck in this form forever. No bags under his eyes, forever.

He can't move on even when he tries.

He plays the blame game, for a while. He makes Elena, Caroline, Jeremy and the rest feel like shit, bring them down to his level because they let Bonnie slip through their fingers as well.

He wasn't the only one to fail her.

* * *

><p>It's a Sunday that Stefan decides to take a break from Damon's metaphorical suicide watch. Stefan takes Elena somewhere for some peace and quiet.<p>

Damon plays loud music and consumes alcohol so straight it passes his throat and heads straight to his stomach.

His company is a young woman who looks on wide-eyed, his energy and stamina is something to behold.

Damon twirls the girl around, dances with her, gazes at her while she babbles on about her broken home life.

Its déjà vu except he tells her his own story about love and loss. In her eyes, he loses cool points because he's too damned sad and pitiful.

He turns her into a lovely snack, the copper chasing through Bourbon. He kicks the girl out without defiling her.

When he is alone, he cracks open Genet's _Notre Dame des Fleurs_ to get lost in the campiness, reads a few pages then puts it down. Rubs at his eyes, tries not to think about _her_.

He roams the house.

Four a.m. looks like morning wants to hurry up, looks like morning wants to bang his head against the wall. He wishes he could die of a heart attack. Attack of the heart.

Baby. He never called her baby, he doesn't think. He called her darling. Honey. A bitch (when he hated her because she hated him). He wanted to take her to Paris, to Munich, to Italy, to New York. Yeah, New York, she would have loved it.

He remembers that fresh, sweet taste of her (under the lip-gloss).

Right before it's Five O'clock, the room shifts around him and he feels, absolutely knows that he's no longer alone.

Quick, flashing like a vampire, flashing like he used to when the weight of grief didn't hold him down.

"Fuck," he murmurs because Elena dying and coming back to life (even for just a moment) really screwed with the chemistry of the house. The boardinghouse is an open banquet once more where anyone can come in.

He doesn't want to deal with newbies or wannabes or vampires who don't know a thing about living forever while the one's you love die.

"I'm not in the mood," Damon announces out loud.

The television comes on in his room. He hears the drone of late night/early morning television. He takes his time going to his bedroom, giving the intruder ample time to save themselves.

He stops in the hall before rounding the corner to his room, the prickly hesitation abnormal.

His eyes are on the television first, the paid program selling a blender that chops, mashes, and turns into a mini-vacuum.

Ingenious.

He looks at his bed and decides that he has drunk way too much. It's kicking his ass, finally.

Damon opens and closes his mouth, no sound emitting.

He tries again, "Bonnie."

* * *

><p><strong>END<strong>

**This effectively ends the series. I originally had no intention of turning it into a three-part ordeal but I was encouraged by the people who reviewed my stories and requested, in so many words, that they wanted "More!" **

**I know that I wimped out by not detailing how Klaus was killed (if he actually was!) but that is because: **

**a) Why not leave it open? Nice and tidy endings take the suspense out or stories.**

**b) I have yet to figure out how to kill off a character that can't be killed. (See me after season 3 of TVD).**

**Before posting any piece of fan fiction, my worse fear was that next to the talented writers that I have read, and next to the stories that are on their way to becoming legendary (10 years from now, someone will ask "remember that TVD fic, the one where Bonnie and Damon..."), I would pale in comparison. I'm still self-deprecating as hell, but I have realized that there are those of you who like my writing (not just a friend that nods and smiles and tells you is it good even though they are secretly wondering why the hell you are writing fan fiction about characters on TV).**

**For those of you who just want the characters to do what you say (at least most of the time if your muse permits), this Bud's for you! (or Heineken...or Coors...or water, if you don't drink. Water is lovely).**

**Thanks,**

**N6IB**


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